Dal Niente
by Ellie13x
Summary: When D.G. Cohen moved from Gotham to Georgia, she expected her senior year to be boring. She never expected to be in a battle with the popular crowd and find her only solace in a quiet boy obsessed with fear. Part one of a series. Crane/OC. Now complete.
1. 01

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**01**

**Can't Be Saved  
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North Atlanta High is just like Gotham High, really. The same cliques wearing the same clothes and the same attitudes. The only real difference was that Atlanta was bright and Sunny, where Gotham was dark and corrupt. I straightened my black top unconsciously. Either way, I wouldn't fit in.

My name is D.G. Cohen, and I'm officially the new girl of North Atlanta High. My newly divorced mother packed us up and moved as far away from Gotham as she could. She moved us from my school, where I was starting my year as the leader of the string quartet and actually had friends. Away from my city, the place I was born and grew up, all because she "couldn't stand to be in the same city, let alone the same state" as my father. What did he do to garner such hatred from his wife of 25 years?

He slept with my teacher. Yeah, that last parent-teacher conference was awkward.

Mom had hired a moving van before the ink on the papers was even dry. Since I am seventeen, I was given the choice what parent to stay with. I love my father, even though he's a cheating prick, but my mother is a little unhinged at the moment so I went with her to Georgia. I knew my father would be okay, he had his girlfriend to keep him company. My mother had no one but me.

I sighed as I made my way through the halls to my locker. I took a drink of my cola and frowned. It was the end of the day and I've been here for two weeks or so, but I still managed to get stares as I walked by. I'm really not that interesting to look at, to be honest. Mid-length auburn hair. Hazel eyes. Pale, freckled skin. I'm not really short, and not really tall. I'm just.. me.

And yet I still felt eyes on my back as I made my way from class to class. I figured the new kid syndrome would have worn off by now, but people still avoided me like the plague. I had no friends yet. The teachers were nice and some of the loner kids were decent, but I'd really only said maybe a few sentences in two weeks. But I was an observer at heart so, at least, I already knew what people to stay away from.

There was Sherry Williams, cheerleader and mean girl clique leader. She was the perfect stereotype, really. Blonde hair, tiny waist line, heavily made up face. She was as nice as she could be to the faculty, but like a viper behind their backs. Her boyfriend, Jacob or Josh something, was captain of the football team and looked like a Greek god. All muscles and smiles. He was also a bully, though not quite to his girlfriend's extent. Sherry went after everyone who didn't match her impossibly high standards.

I had never had the pleasure to meet them personally. I kept my head down and kept to myself for the most part, so I guess I didn't attract their attention.

The crowd in the hallway died down as I was almost to my locker and I heard raised voices that pulled me from my thoughts. I stopped by the corner and looked around it, seeing a group of people standing in a circle in the middle. Directly in front of my freaking locker.

I instantly recognized Sherry and her boytoy. She had her hands on her hips and was looking down at something on the floor while he was leaning over, laughing. I caught a sight of something move and realized that it was someone, not something on the floor.

There was about five people in the circle, a few of Boytoy's (as I decided to rename him since I can't remember his name) goons and the ringleaders. I could distract them or something, but that would definitely put me on the bully map. But my mother always told me to stand up for what you believe in, and I do **not** believe in bullying. My mind made up, I put my bag on the floor, in case it got ugly. Oh well, here goes nothing.

I walked up behind them, making sure that the lid of my soda was very loose. None of them noticed me till I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, but you are kind of blocking me from my locker." I put on my sweetest smile as the group turned to me.

I got my first look at the figure on the floor and was shocked to see I kind of recognized him. His name was Crane or something. He sat in front of me during Psychology. His normally neat dark hair was mussed and his glasses were shattered on the floor. His nose was swollen and his face, normally gorgeous and some-what feminine, was bruised. His brilliant blue eyes were staring determinedly at the floor, like he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. That was probably a good idea, but I felt anger. I didn't know him, sure, but he was quiet. He was always either studying or reading, and I know he didn't do anything to these idiots. My plans were more concrete now.

I raised my eyes to see the bitch glaring at me, and that only made my smile wider. "What is your problem? Can't you see we're busy?" Her voice was sweet, and it kind of sucked, considering all she did was spew hate.

"Oh yes, I can see that. But you know, bullies suck. And I really don't want to have to deal with a bunch of immature, idiotic and not to mention insecure jerks in front of my locker every day." My sickly sweet smile never left my face.

Sherry was seething while Boytoy just gave me a confused look. "Insecure?"

I groaned and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Really? All of that and that was what slipped in? But yes, insecure. Only self-conscious people bully so that others don't notice their own faults. You know, like the bottle blonde hair or the general bad attitude?"

Sherry stepped forward and almost growled. "You stupid bitch, mind your own fucking business and I won't kick your ugly ass. Just walk away."

I snorted and took a few steps closer, so that I was directly in front of her. "Walk away? Listen, I'm involved now. Stop bullying people that have done nothing to you, and maybe I'll stay out of your business. Besides, don't you have a tanning appointment? Wouldn't want to delay your inevitable skin cancer from develop-"

Sherry lunged at me and I took my chance. I threw my now warm soda in her face, which stopped her mid-pounce. Time seemed to slow down. She gasped, the dark liquid dripping off her face and onto her frilly, pink, and undoubtedly couture blouse. She looked at me in shock, and then looked at her ruined shirt. She reared back and for a second I'm pretty sure she's gonna punch me. However, she bursts into tears and shoves me, racing down the hall. Well, that was anticlimactic.

I move to the side as Boytoy runs after her, his lackey's staying behind and glaring at me. I gesture to where the couple had run off to. "Well, go on then. Your leader probably can't even open the door without you." Knowing looks crossed their faces before they followed, albeit much slower than their friends.

When they were out of sight, I turned to the boy on the floor and wasn't surprised to see him already on his knees, picking up his belongings. I smiled when he looked up, a cold look on his features. "I almost feel bad about doing that." I then noticed a book he had with him, '_The Study of Anxiety and Fear'. _Okay, then.

The boy snorted. "Then you shouldn't have. I didn't need your help." Despite that, he winced when he moved to collect what used to be his glasses.

I shrugged. "That's my specialty, helping ungrateful people." He gave a withering look and I crouched down to pick up the frames of his glasses. "I hope these weren't expensive."

He shook his head. "I have insurance on them, but I have to get to the doctor's before Grandmother comes home. She won't be pleased."

I bit my lip. "Is it in Atlanta? If you don't have a car, I can take you. We'd have to walk to my house to get my car, though. It's only a couple blocks away."

He stood and looked at me reluctantly, his guard so far up, I'm pretty sure NASA could see it from the satellite. "Why are you helping me? I don't even know you."

"Well, then." I grabbed his hand, holding it tightly when he tried to pull away. I shook it. "I'm D.G. I just moved here from Gotham and I hate it. My hobbies include playing violin and cello and throwing pop on obnoxious cheerleaders. What's your name?"

The boy's eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought he was analyzing me. But then a corner of his mouth quirked. "Jonathan Crane. I've been here all my life and I hate it. And D.G. isn't a real name." His voice was soft, but held a hard edge to it.

I frowned. "You know, you really shouldn't insult the person who just offered to take you to get your glasses fixed." I handed the broken frames to him and he handled them gingerly. His hands were medium sized, with long fingers that tapered to clean cut nails. I shook my head. "And D.G. is my name, sorry to tell you." I moved to my locker, side stepping the small puddle of soda and broken glass.

I quickly entered my combination and threw my books in. It was Friday and I didn't have homework, since I did it all during study hall. I could feel Jonathan standing awkwardly behind me. "D.G. has to be short for something." It statement, not a question.

"It is." I fished my keys out and shut the locker. "But you'll never find out what it is." I gave him a grin and walked down the hall, leaving him to catch up.

* * *

><p>We made it to the apartment in no time. Our apartment was small, two beds and two baths, but it suited my mom and I perfectly. One entire wall that went from the entry into the living room was exposed brick and it had a sort of grungy look to it, not something you usually see out of Gotham or New York. The kitchen had newer appliances and the bedrooms had decent closet space. It wasn't our house, but it was home for now.<p>

I motioned to Jonathan to follow me in and he walked in, but stood awkwardly by the door. I frowned at him. "Come in, I'll give you ice for your nose." Which was starting to look like a beak, but I kept that part to myself.

"I'm fine."

My frown turned into a glare. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. I pushed him into one of the mismatched chairs and, ignoring his indignant look, pulled an ice pack out of the freezer and wrapped it with a clean dish towel. I held it out to him and smirked when he didn't take it. "If you don't take it, I'll stand here and hold it to your nose for you."

He gave me a horrified look and snatched it out of my hand, carefully touching his swollen face with it.

I heard a crash in the living room followed by a curse and rolled my eyes. We were still unpacking and my mother is extremely clumsy. She moved into the kitchen from the second doorway and stopped dead.

To anyone with the gift of sight, it was easy to tell who I take after. My mother had my same coloring, but she was smaller than me. Where I was average in height and had curves, my mother was short and was built like one of those Olympic gymnasts you see on TV. She raised an eyebrow at me while wiping her face.

"Dahlia, who's this?"

"I knew that D.G. wasn't your real name!" I shot the boy a look that clearly stated I was going to throw him out of one of our fifth floor windows and he gave me a triumphant smirk.

I groaned. "Mom! Really?"

My mother rolled her eyes. "Dahlia Grace, I know you hate your name, but I refuse to call you that awful nickname your father gave you." She focused her gaze on Jonathan. "I'm sorry, Dahlia is being immature. I'm Beatrice Flynn, Dahlia's mother."

To my surprise, Jonathan set down the ice on the table and stood, holding out a pale hand. "Jonathan Crane, ma'am."

When she looked between us and smirked, I knew she instantly had the wrong idea. "Jonathan goes to my school, Mom. His glasses were broken so I told him I'd take him to get them replaced."

"Your daughter is very kind, ma'am. I only just met her today." I couldn't keep the surprised look off my face. Man, he was laying it on thick. "I hope this doesn't inconvenience you."

My mother waved her hands. "Oh, of course not. I'm happy Dahlia has finally made a friend. I was about to give up hope." She turned to me. "Are you taking the Charger?"

"Of course, do you really think I'm gonna take the station wagon?" I grabbed my other set of keys and looked at Jonathan. "You ready?"

He nodded and went to move but my mother stopped us again. "Jonathan, you're welcome to come back after wards and stay for dinner if you'd like."

I looked around his back and gave her a 'what the hell are you doing?' look that she promptly ignored. I only met this kid today, and my mother was inviting him to dinner? He's going to think we're serial killers or something.

Luckily, my new companion saved me. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have to decline. My grandmother prefers me to be home after school unless I tell her first."

Mom nodded. "Right, well, next time then. We'll plan it so your grandmother knows beforehand."

I tapped my foot, getting impatient. "Alright, see you later, Mom!" I quickly ushered Crane out of the apartment and shut the door, leaning against it. He was watching me with a dark eyebrow raised. I shrugged. "Sorry, my mom gets... excited. Especially since the divorce."

"That's understandable. This must have been a big change for the both of you." He had that edge back in his voice. It was hard to describe, almost like he was holding something back. "Is that why you moved?"

I nodded as we came upon my black 1969 Dodge Charger. She was my baby, she really was. My father got her for me for my sixteenth birthday and, of course, now my mom wants to sell her. Ridiculous.

I moved to go to the driver side when I saw Jonathan still on the sidewalk. I grinned at the look on his face. Men, they're all the same. "Problem?"

He shook his head. "No. Nice car."

I opened the door and climbed in. He gingerly got in, putting his bag in the backseat. I waited for him to put on his seat belt before pulling out into the busy street. "So, since I never answered your question,yeah, the divorce is why we moved. My mother doesn't even want to be on the same continent as my father right now, but plane tickets to Australia are expensive."

"He cheated."

A morose smile appeared on my face. "Yeah. With my teacher. She caught them."

"And you chose to stay with your mom." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I mean, she needs me. My dad has his new girlfriend. Or, not so new girlfriend, I guess. My mom has no one." Jonathan nodded and, taking a look out of the rear-view mirror, I caught sight of that weird book again. I knew I had to ask. "Okay, this is going to sound weird and all, but what's with the book?"

"I read, Dahlia." There it was.

"It's D.G., thanks. And yes, I gathered that. I read, too. Just not _'The Study of Fear'_ or whatever. Just seems like an odd subject matter is all."

He shrugged and looked out the windshield, his eyes not focused. "Fear is an interesting emotion. Every species feels it, it's one of our base survival instincts. Fear controls almost everything we do." Apparently he caught the 'what the fuck?' look I was giving him because he elaborated. "Take yourself for instance. You moved with your mother half way across the country. Why? You could have chose to stay with your father."

I wasn't following. "Because she needed me. What does fear have anything to do with that?"

"You moved because you are afraid of what will happen to your mother if she's alone. You know that this divorce has hurt her and you fear for her safety."

Shock. "You got that from the whole two hours we've been together?" I had to remind myself to watch the road.

He nodded. "I'm good at it. Your mother moved because she was afraid she would run into your father. Your father cheated because he's afraid of getting older... fear plays a huge part in our subconscious decisions." He swallowed and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. "If we can control fear, we can change the world. Governments use fear to control their citizens, criminals use it to control their victims, parents use it on their children... Imagine what the world would be like if fear was no longer powerful."

I could imagine it and the image it gave me kind of scared me. Time to change the subject. "Those idiots that were bullying you, why didn't you fight back?"

The look on his face, open and honest before, was immediately shut off and cold and he turned to glare at me. Oops. "Pull in on the right."I turned my blinker on and pulled into the parking lot of Douglas Family EyeCare. I pulled into a parking place by the door and blinked when he started gathering his things. He finally looked at me and gave me a curt nod. "Thank you for the ride, Dahlia."

"Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you... I was just trying to get to know you. How are you going to get home?" I really wasn't trying to make him pissed at me, but it was like hitting a switch. No warnings with this guy, apparently.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I can ride the bus."

I scoffed. "I thought you had to be home before your grandmother? If you try to catch the bus, there's no way that's going to happen."

He scowled but I knew that I had him there. "Alright. I'll be out in a few minutes." He put the bag on the seat and got out, carrying his broken glasses into the store.

Why was I trying so hard to get to know this guy? I could tell he was different. He was smart, there's no doubt about that. He held himself differently than everyone else I had ever met. For a moment I found myself almost happy. I had only known him for a few hours, but I sort of felt myself drawn to him. I don't know if that's good or bad.

I sighed and turned on the radio, immediately perking up when my favorite band comes on. At least Georgia isn't going to be boring.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Welcome to my first attempt at writing Jonathan Crane! I know he's a little out of character, but he's still a teenager here and hasn't been through a lot yet, so I think he would be a little different. Anyways, I have BIG plans for this story if everything turns out right, it's gonna be a long one! Let me know if you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it.


	2. 02

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**02**

**Ugly**

The ride to Jonathan's house wasn't bad. It was a little bit out of Atlanta, on a rural road. It actually surprised me, it had to be at least a half an hour away from the school. The area was quiet and secluded. "There's actually a bus that comes out here?"

Jonathan had been quiet since he got back in the car, new glasses in hand. He was wearing them now, staring out the window. Apparently the break in the quiet startled him, he twitched. If I had been watching the road like I should have been, I would have missed it. "No, not quite. I walk to the end of the road and catch a city bus, then go to the school bus."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? How early do you have to get up to be able to do that?"

"Four." His tone was clipped, like talking to me was the absolute last thing he would ever want to do.

Jesus Christ. "Why don't you get a car? Or a horse?"

He scowled. "Grandmother won't let me get a car and I really don't think a horse would be convenient." That woman sounded lovely.

"How about I rid-er, drive you?" I was gifted a raised eyebrow. "To school?"

He turned to me and I could tell he was guarded again. "Why are you being so nice to me, Dahlia?"

I bit my lip and considered. I already knew that there was something about this guy that I liked, but was it really worth it? I snuck a peak at him. He really was gorgeous, even with the bumps and bruises. His face was sculpted with high cheek bones and full lips. He was extremely thin and for a second I thought of something I had heard Sherry say before I interrupted her. Scarecrow. That was what they had called him. But she was so wrong. Sure, he was thin, but there was an underlying strength. He was also very intelligent, soft-spoken but very articulate. He was different, but it was a refreshing sort of different. Yep, definitely worth it.

"Ugh, if you keep using that name I won't be so nice." I gave him a smile to show that I was joking. I was given a blank stare in return. "But seriously. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No one else is." So his armor did have a tiny little crack. He now looked like he wanted to strangle himself, probably for letting that slip.

"They're all jealous, is all." He gave me another look. "Come on, you're too smart to not realize that."

He nodded. "I know."

"I'm nice because I'm not jealous. I'm not gonna lament over talents I don't have. Okay, you're super smart, you talk like you eat a dictionary everyday for breakfast, and you're really good at pegging people. I'm good at playing violin and cello. I'm smart, not as smart as you granted, but I'm definitely above those jerks that push people around. Oh, and I can work on my car, usually without help. You have your talents and I have mine."

I actually got a smile out of him. It was small, but it was a smile. "Thanks, D.G. My house is right up ahead."

I pulled into the gravel in front of an older home. The siding was cracked and hanging in places and I could see an old church in the distance. The porch looked bowed in some places and it just looked all around depressing. I was suddenly grateful for my tiny apartment. "Do you think we made it?"

Jonathan took a look at the clock on the dash and nodded. It was going on 5 o'clock. "She shouldn't be home for another hour." He moved to get his stuff and paused, thinking. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind coming to pick me up before school?"

I shook my head. "Of course not. I wouldn't have offered if I did. I get up early anyways."

He looked pensive for a moment. "Pick me up at the end of the lane at six. I'll be waiting."

With a nod he was out of the car and making his way to the door. He didn't look back as he disappeared inside, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

* * *

><p>"Mom! I'm home!" I shut the door behind me and threw my keys on the wooden counter. I heard her call from the bedroom so I rid myself of my sneakers and made my way back to my room.<p>

She was unpacking my two violins and my cello, hanging the violins on my wall with the bows. She smiled at me as she put my cello on it's stand. "I remember when I bought you your first violin. You were six."

I grinned and sat on my bed, pushing the the covers aside. "Yeah, I wanted a drum kit, and you came home with a violin. I was pissed."

Mom shrugged. "Blame your Grannie. She still claims that violins and pianos are the only instruments women should touch." She laughed when I rolled my eyes and fell back on the bed. "So... Jonathan seems nice. And he's pretty cute."

I snorted. "I've only known him for a day, Mom. Don't pry."

She sighed. "Sorry, love. I just get excited. We've been here two weeks and he's the first friend you brought home."

"I didn't really plan on bringing him home. I caught a bunch of kids bullying him." I bit my lip, maybe I should have kept that to myself.

The grin was wiped off her face. "Oh, Dahlia, what did you do?"

"Nothing, Mom!" I tried to look innocent, but her face told me she was having none of it. "Oh, alright. I... dumped my soda down the Sherry Williams' shirt."

Mom sighed and ran a hand over her aging face. "Oh, Dahlia, what am I going to do with you?"

I sat up quickly. "Mom! You saw Jonathan! His face normal doesn't look like that, you know. They broke his glasses."

She sat down next to me and pulled me into a hug. "You know you probably just brought a load of stupid onto your doorstep, right? And for someone you don't know."

I hugged her back and smiled when she kissed my temple. "I know. But I had to do it. They weren't going to leave him alone. And I may not know him well, but he's definitely the most interesting person in Georgia."

Mom pulled back and laughed. "So, what now?"

"I'm gonna pick him up and take him to school... he lives outside the city and his grandmother won't let him have a car. He has to wake up at four to catch two buses to get to school. How ridiculous is that?"

"Hm, that is pretty bad. His grandmother seems like a strict one to me. You need to be careful, hun."

"Yes, Mom."

Mom stood and started to my door but paused. "Oh, and you got something from Gotham University in the mail today."

I was shocked. This early? "What? Where is it?"

Mom seemed to produce it out of thin air. I glared weakly at her and she smirked. She had been hiding it behind her back the whole time. She dangled it in front of me before I just used my height advantage and stood, taking it and making her pout like a toddler. "You're no fun."

"This is my future in a tacky manilla envelope. Of course I'm no fun." But once I had it in my hands, I couldn't open it. The black seal on the front seemed to taunt me, along with the rolling script, _Ms. Dahlia Grace Cohen. _"It's kind of thick to be a rejection letter, right?"

Mom looked at me sympathetically. "I don't know, love. You should just open it."

I closed my eyes and ripped open the envelope, tossing it to the side. I unfolded it and held it up to show my mom. "Should I just go bawl my eyes out now?"

"Open your eyes, Dahlia." Her voice was serious. Shit. I didn't get in.

I swallowed thickly and opened my eyes. I turned the letter to face me and scanned the first few lines.

_'Dear Ms. Cohen,_

_I am delighted to inform you that the Admissions Committee has voted to offer you a place in the Gotham University Class of 2003. Please accept my personal-'_

"Oh my god!" I threw the letter to the side and screamed. "I got in! Oh my god, oh my god, Mom, I got in!" I started jumping and my mom, caught in the excitement, jumped with me.

"Congrats! My baby girl!" She hugged me fiercely, stopping my bouncing. "Your first choice! I'm so proud of you!"

I noticed she had tears in her eyes, so of course I teared up, also. "Mom, don't you cry, or I'm going to cry."

She smiled and wiped the tears away. "Oh my- it's November! This time next year you'll be back in Gotham! We've got to prepare!"

I laughed and pulled my mom into another hug. "I've got to call Dad, too."

"Of course, of course. Go call your asshole of a father and then get dressed, we're going out to dinner to celebrate!" She pranced away, giggling and I could hear her singing.

I smiled and grabbed my phone off the base, dialing my father's number. I was still so pumped that my foot was bouncing like crazy as I listened to the ringing. After the fifth ring, someone finally picked up.

"_Cohen residence."_

Well, that wasn't my dad. "Er, yeah. I'm looking for my dad, David."

"_Oh! D.G.! I'm sorry, I hardly recognized your voice! It's Ms. Taylor, but you can call me Kara now. How are you?"_

Oh. It was her. Great. "I'm alright. Is my dad around?"

"_Yeah, he's just getting out of the shower, let me get him."_

I heard jostling around and I rolled my eyes, especially after hearing the low voices and giggling. This sold it, I'm getting my own apartment when I get to Gotham. No way was I staying with the lovebirds.

After a few more seconds, the phone finally crackled again. _"D.G.!"_

I smiled. Even if he was a cheating prick, David Cohen is my father and I love him. "Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"_I'm great! Though I'm kind of surprised to hear from you this late." _I looked at the clock, it was only six-thirty. Really, Dad? _"Is something wrong, sweetheart?"_

"No, Dad. I'm actually calling 'cause I have some really good news."

"_Really? What's going on?"_

"I got into Gotham University! I'm coming back next fall!"

I heard him give a little cheer and smiled, my heart feeling lighter. _"That's great, baby! Congrats! I'm so proud of you! Does your mom know?"_

"Of course! She got the mail today, I didn't get home till about an hour ago."

"_And what were you doing, young lady?"_

I could just hear the suspicion in his voice. I rolled my eyes. "Nothing, Dad. Just hanging out with a new friend."

"_I'm glad to hear you're making friends. Anyways, I've got to go, sweetheart. And I'm sure your mother is waiting not-so-patiently in the hall to take you out to celebrate. Tell you what, you're coming home for Christmas, right?"_

I thought about it. "Yeah, I think so. Mom wants to visit Uncle Rick and Aunt Trish."

"_Well, while you're up here, we'll go look for apartments for you. I need to see how much of my bank account you're gonna be draining monthly."_

I laughed. "Well, I didn't expect you to pay for my apartment, but since you offered."

"_Of course I did. But I've got to go. I love you, hun."_

"I love you too, Dad." We hung up and I stared at the phone for a long while. It was hard being away from half your family, especially when they refused to even greet each other. Okay, that was more on Mom's end than Dad's, but can you blame her? Homewrecker is only about five years older than me.

I was startled out of my thoughts by my mom. She peeked her head in, her make-up done and her hair pulled up. "Ready to go?"

I looked down at my clothes and blinked. I must have gotten dressed on autopilot. But apparently my blouse and pants fit my mom's expectations because she gave me a blinding smile when I nodded.

* * *

><p>Waking up before six should be a crime. But I found myself getting up at five-thirty and rushing around, all to go pick up some boy I barely knew.<p>

I was happy from the night before and I guess it showed, because when I pulled into the entrance of the lane Jonathan shot me a weird look as he climbed into the Charger.

I never noticed how he dressed till now. It was always a button up shirt and vest with a tie and nice denim. His clothes were immaculate, though I'm not sure why it surprised me. Someone as intelligent as him wouldn't let themselves look sloppy. His face also looked better today, his nose was back to normal and only one bruise still showing.

He was, however, rubbing his left wrist like it ached or something. That's weird. "Hello, Dahlia. You appear to be in a fine mood this morning."

It seems I couldn't keep the happiness from showing. Oh well. "Well, I got some pretty nice news last night." I didn't want to throw it in his face or anything, so I figured if he asked I would tell him.

And he did. "Care to share?"

A huge grin broke out on my face and I repeated the words of the letter in my head. I knew them by heart now. "I was accepted into Gotham University. My number one school."

Jonathan looked a little shell shocked at first before he carefully schooled his expression back to it's perfect nonchalance. "That's... interesting."

My brows furrowed together. "What is?"

"I also received my acceptance letter to Gotham University last night. It appears that we'll be going to college together, D.G."

My jaw dropped and I almost slammed on the breaks. "What? Really?"

"Does that bother you?" His voice was calm, but something flashed in those gorgeous eyes of his.

"No! Not at all! It's kind of cool, actually. I mean, how weird is it, we just met yesterday and now we're going to the same school? But, if I may ask, why Gotham? It's a ways away."

"That's exactly why."

Oh, poor guy. He probably wants a fresh start away from this area. "Right. Well, now I'm even more excited. I'm not gonna be able to sit still in Psych now."

Jonathan looked confused and I had to admit, it was kind of cute. "You have Psychology? What block?"

I burst out laughing. I didn't know whether to be insulted or not. "Third. I sit right behind you."

"You do not." That only made me laugh harder. He looked so sure. "I would have noticed you."

"If you don't believe me, look in the glove compartment. My schedule is in there." I notice he did exactly as I told him, cracking open the glove box and grabbing the only loose piece of paper. His eyes narrowed and he looked frustrated as the paper proved me right and him wrong. "To be honest, I'm kind of happy that you didn't notice me. It shows that my previous plans worked."

"What plans?" He glared one last time at my schedule before stuffing it back into the box, shutting the door.

I turned into the school parking lot, pulling into a empty space. "I had planned to keep my head down low and just ride out the school year."I climbed out of the car and put my keys in my pocket. Jonathan walked next to me as we made our way across the crowded parking lot. "You know, be as invisible as I could until I could run back to Gotham. But I kind of ruined that when I dumped my soda on the biggest bully in school."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Well, you, obviously."

"Hm." Jonathan stayed by my side until we reached the hallway where both of our lockers were and again there was a large group in front of my locker. Some of them heard us approach and turned, their eyes widening and the whispers getting louder.

"What the hell?" I pushed my way through the group till I reached my locker and felt my heart stop in my chest.

On my locker, spray painted in black, were the words "**SCARECROW FUCKER**" and **"WHORE"**.

My mouth went dry and I could feel rage bubbling up within me. I just stood there, staring at the words. It was one thing to go after me, since I was the one who threw pop on her, but of course she had to bring my new friend back into it. People were starting to push into me trying to get a better look and it only made me more angry. I barely noticed Jonathan pulling me out of the crowd until his soft hands were on my face. "Dahlia! Snap out of it."

I blinked and tried to look around him. "Did you-"

He frowned and made me look into his eyes. "Don't. It's not worth it and you know that. They're not worth it. They're jealous, remember?"

I tried to regulate my breathing and was mildly successful until I heard her. Jonathan froze and his eyes looked over my head and I knew she had to be right behind me. His hands dropped to my shoulders.

"Can you believe it? She's only been here two weeks and she's already shacked up with the neighborhood freak. I heard she got kicked out of her old school because she was caught sleeping with the entire football team!" I turned my head. She was standing off to the side, her back to me, surrounded by her usual group of mindless drones. "I even heard that she was pregnant and didn't know who the dad was, so she got-"

Ripping away from Jonathan, I was on her in a second. My fist connected with her jaw and she crashed to the floor.

I heard Jonathan yell for me as I felt two of her minions grab me, pulling me away as the bitch got to her feet. I pulled on my arms, ready to rip her fake blonde hair out of her head. She sneered at me before raising her hand and slapping me across the face. "Did you really think you were going to get away with what you did yesterday? You should have just left it alone, you could have been cool! But no, you had to stick up for the freak. Wrong choice!"

I stopped struggling and smiled. "He's twice the person you'll ever be, and I just met him yesterday. Hatred is ugly, Sherry." With that, I lunged again, taking the drones by surprise and tackled the queen of the school to the floor.

That's when all Hell broke loose.

**A/N:** Two in one day! I'm pretty pleased with this one, as far as it goes. Being bullied before, I have plenty of experiences to draw on. Also, this is only part one out of a possible four part series. I'm gonna follow the Nolan-Verse with these. This part is (obviously) set before Batman Begins, part two will be Batman Begins, etc. The final movie comes out in summer, so all goes well, part four will coincide with that. I also have to say, I was super surprise when I received all the alerts! I hope you guys are going to enjoy this as much as me, it's going to be an interesting ride!


	3. 03

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun

**03**

**Crushcrushcrush**

"Ms. Cohen, I don't know how schools are run in that distasteful city Gotham, but fighting is **not** allowed in my school."

I groaned. Principal Waverly was a cowardly looking man. Portly and balding, his eyes were narrowed. He kind of looked like an obese mouse to be honest. His ears were a little to large for his small head and his face was pinched.

His office wasn't any better. The school colors were brown and red, reminding me of old blood, and his office was painted to match. There were numerous plaques lining the walls and there were generic pictures of people that were supposed to be his family on his desk. The room was chilly, even for November and I curled into myself.

To say that the fight with Sherry was evenly matched was a gross exaggeration. I could have beaten her to a bloody mess had Jonathan not pulled me off of her. She landed maybe one or two hits on me, and a three year old can hit harder than she can. Maybe she had never had to defend her place in social standing here. Until now that is.

"Ms. Cohen, are you ignoring me?" I blinked. Oops. I had dazed off. Jonathan told me not to do that.

"Sorry, sir. Just thinking about how sorry I am." Not.

The repulsive man gave a big sigh. "You've only been here for two weeks and you've already attacked someone!"

"Did you see what was painted on my locker, sir? I was defending myself!" The nerve of this man. I shifted, the seats were uncomfortable and scratchy. I just wanted to get out of here.

"Yes, that is unfortunate, but you can't prove it was Ms. Williams that did it." I rolled my eyes. Waverly leaned back, resting his hands on his girth. "I have decided to be lenient since you have no record and Ms. Williams decided not to press charges. I'm letting you off with a warning now, Ms. Cohen. But if you put one more toe over the line, you will be suspended or expelled." He leaned over, the desk, getting inches from my face and I had to keep myself from gagging. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Yes, dear God, yes. I'll agree to anything. Just get me out of this office. "May I go now?"

He nodded. "You're dismissed. It's the end of second period, so just head to your locker."

I nodded and pretty much ran out of the room. I slowed down once I reached the empty hallway and I slowly made my way to my locker. It wasn't too far away from the office so I didn't need to rush. My footsteps on the linoleum were the only sound other than the muted voices of teachers if you got too close to a door.

Once I reached my locker I stood back and stared at the ugly words. The black paint stood out great on awful brown. I didn't even bother to ask if they were going to repaint it, I seriously doubted it.

It wasn't even the fact that they were saying that I was sleeping with Jonathan. Granted, I'd only known him for a day, but I could definitely do a lot worse. He was gorgeous, there was no doubt. Sure, he was a little... odd and a bit antisocial. But he was different, and I loved that. He wasn't apologetic for being who he was. And besides, popularity doesn't mean anything outside of high school.

No one cares if you were a cheerleader or a band nerd. I had less than a year left here and then I would be going back to Gotham. So would Jonathan.

"No matter how long you stare at it, it's still going to be there."

I jumped about five feet in the air and turned, almost running face first into Jonathan's chest. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and I blushed a little. "Er, yeah. I don't care, anyways."

"You don't care that the entire school thinks you're having sex with me?" I shook my head and busied myself opening my locker. Why hadn't I heard the bell ring? "You are quite unusual, Dahlia."

"Yeah, you have room to talk, Crane." I grabbed my Psychology book and notebook, pushing the locker door shut. "Don't you need to get your book?"

He held it out to me. When had he gotten that? How long did I stare at my stupid locker?

"A good five minutes I'd say." I blinked. Had I said that out loud? Apparently I had.

I sighed and started walking, noting how Jonathan fell into step with me. We walked in a companionable silence until we reached for door, which he promptly opened, letting me past first.

Ms. Phyllis wasn't in yet, but I sat down regardless. Jonathan shook his head and sat in front of me, mumbling something. He was probably still put out that he was wrong.

More people filed in through the doors and I saw Sherry walk in. She kept her gaze to the ground and her face was bruised. I kind of felt guilty, but at the same time I knew it would probably help her character to be knocked down a peg or two.

Phyllis still hadn't came in and I felt a tap on my arm. I looked to my left and noticed a small girl I had never noticed before. Her hair was dark brown, borderline black and she had warm brown eyes and a tan complexion. She gave me a small smile. "I'm Belinda. I just wanted to thank you."

My brow furrowed in confusion and Jonathan turned in interest. "For what?" I glared at him for asking **my** question. He just smirked.

She leaned in and her voice was quieter. "I've been bullied by Sherry my entire life. Since you stood up to her, she hasn't bothered anyone, including me. There's a lot of people who want to thank you."

I frowned. "You don't need to thank me, really."

Her smile only brightened. "Do you want to sit with me at lunch?

I opened my mouth and didn't really know what to say. I looked at Jonathan who just grinned and turned around. Jerk.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day went by quickly and before I knew it, I was walking back toward my graffiti-ed locker. I hadn't seen hide or hair of Jonathan since Psychology, but it's not like it was a big deal or anything. But I kind of felt a bit lonely without my shadow.<p>

I turned the corner and laughed. My shadow was leaning against the locker, reading that fear book of his. At the sound of my giggle, he looked up and looked, dare I say it, almost happy to see me. "Took you long enough."

I just smiled and shook my head before gently pushing him away from my locker so I could get into it. This new friendship dynamic we had would take some getting used to, considering I haven't had a friend close by in close to a month. "So sorry. Next time I'll just knock people out that get in my way."

A chuckle burst out of Jonathan's chest. "That would be amusing, at the very least."

I had to agree. I threw my Trig book in the bottom of the locker and grabbed my keys. "Ready to get out of this hell?"

He nodded and I grabbed his arm, grinning when he looked very uncomfortable. I took one last look at my ruined locker and pulled him down the hallway and out of the school.

* * *

><p>"How did you learn to fight like that?" Jonathan's soft voice broke the silence.<p>

We were sitting at the top of his lane again. It was warm for November, so we were sitting on the hood of the Charger. I was leaning back on my elbows, staring at the blue sky that I didn't want to admit reminded me of someone's eyes. We had been in a content silence, neither of us really ready to leave the other.

I shrugged. "I grew up in Gotham. Anyone that has common sense takes some kind of defense classes. I took mixed martial arts. I'm rusty because I've never had to use it. Well, until today." I ran my hand over my face. "I really hope they didn't call my mother. She's gonna skin me alive."

"Your mother seems reasonable enough. I'm sure she'll understand."

We lapsed into another silence before an idea hit me.

"What's your favorite color?"

I just got a blank look in return. "What?"

"Your favorite color?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

I started drumming my fingers on the hood. "Um, well, I assume since we're friends, I could know a bit about you?"

"We're friends?"

I sat up. I was kind of mixed between shocked and embarrassed. Okay, maybe I had assumed he wanted more than just rides to school. I felt my face heat up. Stupid. "I, um... thought we were?"

His face clouded over and he seemed to think for a second. Seconds ticked by and it seemed like it was going to be forever. Finally, he turned those icy eyes on me and nodded. "Yeah, okay. I've never really had a friend before."

I smiled softly at him. "Okay, then. We hardly know anything about each other. So, I'll ask you a question and then you can ask me one. Alright?" He nodded. "Okay, so I'll start easy. Favorite color?"

"Green. And you?"

"You're supposed to ask a different question but I'll let it slide this time. I love purple." I brought my legs to my chest. "When's your birthday?"

"November 13th. What's your favorite book?"

"The 13th? That's next week! We have to do something."

He fully turned to face me now, his knees only centimeters away from mine. My heart beat faster. "Like what?

I thought for a minute. "My mom will be working, so why don't you come over and I'll make dinner or something?" I was still very anxious. What the hell is up with me?

He looked like he was about to refuse but he paused and then nodded. "Okay... I think I would like that."

I couldn't help myself, I flung myself over and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him. I must have scared the hell out of him, because he got very still, arms at his sides. I pulled back and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

He gave me a small smile back before hopping off the hood and starting to gather his things. He started walking down the lane until I remembered something. "Hey, Crane!" He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "My favorite book is Wicked by Gregory Maguire."

He smirked. "Good choice." He continued down the lane until he went around the bend, vanishing from sight.

I climbed into the car and started it, loving the familiar feel of the motor growling. I pulled out onto the road and sang along with the hit song that was playing on the radio.

I had only gotten about ten feet before I came to a dead stop, realization making me want to drive my car into the nearest tree.

I had a crush. A crush on Jonathan Crane. Fuck.

* * *

><p>AN: I know this is pretty short and I'm not quite satisfied with it, but I figured this would be a nice little Christmas gift to all the wonderful people who put this on alert, favorites, and to my reviewer. =) And I'll give a shout out to anyone that can tell me why I picked Wicked as her favorite book. Although, the answer is found in the musical more so than the book.


	4. 04

Disclaimer:I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**04**

**Come On Home**

It's Sunday and I'm bored out of my freaking mind.

Laying on my bed all day and staring at the ceiling is not exactly how I expected to spend my weekend. But, Georgia just wasn't Gotham. Mom was out shopping or doing something else similarly mom-like. I had already spent two hours each on my cello and two violins, and it wasn't past four. I groaned and rolled over, covering my eyes. This kind of sucked.

I sat up and glared at my awful lavender walls. I had half a mind to go down to the hardware store and pick up a bucket of paint and cover up the disaster. I mean, really, who chose lavender walls with princess pink trim? According to the realtor, a single man.

The room had been a mess when we moved in. There was inches of dust plus blood stains on the bathroom tile that we had to rip up. The realtor neglected to tell us that the previous tenant had slit his wrists and bled out on the floor. Poor bastard.

See? This is what I think about when I'm bored. I need to keep myself occupied.

I had even finished all my homework besides Psych and I haven't done that because I knew Crane would help me. I glared at the offending Psychology book on the night stand. I hate you, Sigmund Freud.

I also noticed I was getting hungry. I looked at my keys on top of the Psych book and tried to resist the temptation. I knew that Jonathan probably wouldn't be happy if I just showed up, but maybe if I bribed him with food he'd willing help me battle Freud and his repression mechanism.

Jonathan and I had only gotten closer the past week. We spent every available moment together and I enjoyed it. It had gotten quiet on the Sherry Williams front, too. We both avoided each other at all costs now, and Boytoy stayed the hell away from Jonathan. It worked out well for everyone involved.

I knew something was going on with him at home. I may not be Jonathan Crane smart, but I was observant enough to notice the signs. He hated going home, he was withdrawn, he didn't trust anyone.

But I knew better than to ask him about it. We were treading a thin line as it was. I never knew if something I said was going to set him off or make him pull away. I frowned. I was getting far too involved with this kid, only knowing him two weeks now. But I couldn't help it, we were like magnets. Even he must be affected, because I've noticed him moving closer to me in the hallways and catching himself before he touched my hand.

We didn't even talk all the time. Sometimes we'd just sit in silence, reading or working on homework. He was a good companion, even when he would look over my shoulder and scratch out my answer and write it own in. We didn't need to talk, just being next to each him made me content.

I sighed and ran a hand through my messy hair. I looked down at my torn jeans and striped sweater before grabbing my keys. I'm sure he wouldn't like me just randomly showing up, but maybe I could convince him to help me battle Sigmund Freud and his repression mechanism with good food. It was worth a try, at any rate.

* * *

><p>I walked down the lane, biting my lip. It was starting to get dark and I probably should have brought a flash light for the walk back up. I quickened my steps, hugging myself as a cold gust of wind blew through the leaves. It really had no business getting dark at five in the evening.<p>

The crunch of the gravel was the only sound besides my breathing and some cows whining in the distance. The area really was beautiful. It was remote, but that only added to it's charm. There wasn't a neighbor for miles, which must beat being able to hear your neighbors have really rough sex at all hours of the night.

I wasn't far from the house when I heard raised voices. I narrowed my eyes. I saw a beat up station wagon sitting in the gravel in front. His grandmother must be at it again. I used the shadows and walked around the back of the house like Jonathan told me to, jumping back when the door burst open.

I had to hold my mouth to keep me from gasping. Jonathan stumbled out, falling onto his side. He was shirtless and I could see countless lesions crossing his back. An older woman brandishing a switch came out after wards, her face red with rage. "I knew it! You're going to be just like your whore of a mother! Celia told me that she saw that harlot dropping you off from school late. Did you think I wouldn't find out, you ungrateful sinner?"

"It's... not... like... that!" Jonathan pushed himself onto his elbows, glaring at his grandmother. His glasses were missing and his eyes were blazing like fire. Even in the dusk I could tell that a bruise was blossoming on his left cheek. "She's not like that!"

The switch came down on his back again and I had to hold myself back from screaming. I knew that it wouldn't do anything except ruin my chance of getting him out of here. Tears sprang to my eyes when he fell back onto the ground.

She got into his face and spit on him. "You would say that, wouldn't you? The Devil tempts and, just like your mother, you give in instantly! How did I bear such a weak child? I should have killed her when she was first born, then I wouldn't have to deal with her biggest mistake, you!" The switch came down again and I saw blood. Jonathan didn't move other than he flinched slightly.

"When she came to me, pregnant without a husband, I should have known! I should have thrown her out into the cold! But I put up with her until she ran off, leaving her demon spawn behind, crying and whining all the time. I should have known that you weren't going to be any better!" She reached down, grabbing his hair and pulling him till he stumbling after her. They were headed in the direction of the dilapidated church."You will stay out here until your birthday, and then you'll get out of here! I'm sick of having your disgraceful flesh fouling up my home, do you hear me!"

She was still talking, but now I couldn't hear her since they moved into the church. I moved quickly, crawling underneath the stairs. If I ran to get help, there's no doubt that the crazy bitch would see me and then who knows what she would do to poor Jonathan.

I waited for what seemed like forever, listening to the muted voices before Crazy Bitch made her reappearance. She closed the double doors to the church and brushed herself off primly, before making her way back to the house. She didn't even look back before she climbed up the stairs and slammed the door behind her.

I stayed under the steps for a few minutes, waiting for Jonathan to come out. He didn't. "Fuck!" I cursed. I really should have brought the Charger down here. Who knew what was waiting for me inside the church?

I climbed out from underneath the stairs but kept low to the ground, using the dark and shadows as cover as I quickly walked to the building. I pressed my ear to the outside, listening for anything that might think I'm a snack. Satisfied, I opened the door carefully, cringing when it made a low squeal. I dove in, closing the door behind me.

It was dark on the inside, the only light from the moon shining through the tiny holes of the roof. I squinted. "Jonathan?" The was no answer. "Jonathan Crane, you had better answer me right this second." My voice came out a harsh whisper, betraying my fear.

"Dahlia?" There was a quiet shuffle in front of me. I frowned, I couldn't see anything. I grabbed my bag, fumbling around before feeling the lighter I kept as an emergency flashlight. I opened it and clicked it a few times before it lit up, bringing light to the inside of the church. What I saw stunned me.

Jonathan was on the alter, tied to a cross. His arms were tied at an odd angle behind his back, making his bony shoulders stick out. Blood, old and new, covered the alter and he winced at the harshness of the sudden light. I stepped back. "Oh my god."

"Dahlia... what are you doing here?" His voice was hoarse, who knew how much he screamed before I got there. I felt anger bubble up within me. Even now he was able to keep his cool when I felt like going into the house and making his grandmother's face look like a crime scene.

I threw my lighter down and moved over to him, working on the knots. "I originally came to see if you wanted to get away for awhile, but now I'm gonna make sure you get away forever."

"I appreciate it, I really do. But... you should go before she comes back, she won't be pleased if she sees you." He pulled his arm free and I worked on the other one, freeing it as well. "I'll stay here until my birthday, it's only three-"

I moved forward quickly, grabbing his face in my hands roughly. "Stop it! You're going to come with me and you're going to damn well like it! This isn't right and you know it! Now, come on, the Charger is parked up the lane."

He looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it. I took off my jacket and helped him put it on, carefully letting it rest on his injured back. In the moonlight, I could see many more scars.

I took his hand and we escaped the church, slinking off the property. The trek back up the lane took longer than my trip down, Jonathan was in pain and I made sure to stop often with him so he could catch his breath and kept him balanced when he stumbled. I also kept looking behind my back, making sure the beat up station wagon hadn't magically appeared behind us.

We finally made it to the Charger and I breathed a sigh of relief. We were safe, even if I heard that beast of a car come up the lane I could have us gone in seconds.

I moved closer to my car before I noticed Jonathan wasn't following. I turned around and saw him staring down the lane, an indescribable look on his face. "I never meant for you to see." If I hadn't strained to hear it, I would have missed it. "Now you know how weak I am. I'm seventeen years old and couldn't even defend myself against and old woman."

On a whim, I grabbed him and pulled him to me, hugging him. I had my arms around his waist and I put my face on his bare chest, wincing at how chilled he felt even with the jacket. "You're anything but weak, Jonathan." My voice was barely above a whisper.

I was about to pull away when I felt his arms hesitantly pull me closer and he burrowed his face into my hair. "Thank you, D.G." He kissed my temple, just a soft brush of his lips over my skin.

I was in tears for a second time and I hugged him harder. I decided then that I would never let anyone hurt him again.

* * *

><p>Jonathan was asleep on the couch when my mom got home. I had tried to get him to take my bed, but he refused. I did finally convince him to let me clean and dress his back after he showered and I found an old shirt of mine that fit his thin frame, a faded black tee with a picture of a bow on it with the words "Strung Out". It was a Christmas gift from my grandmother and I never wore it in public. The pajama pants were also a gift from her that were a couple sizes too big.<p>

It was no wonder why Jonathan is the way he is. From dealing with an abusive grandmother, having no parents, and being bullied at school, that was a recipe for teenage disaster. But he kept everything well hidden under that cool mask of his, not letting anyone or anything get the best of him.

He looked peaceful finally and I couldn't help but smile softly. . His face was slack and his mouth was in a light pout that made me giggle a little. His damp hair was starting to wave and partially covered his bruised face. The bruise made me angry again and I sat back in the chair, trying to calm my racing heart.

I was watching some mindless television when I heard the door open. I quickly stood and motioned to my mother to be quiet. She looked at me and motioned me to follow her out into the hall.

I closed the door softly behind me and turned to face my mother's wrath. "What is going on, Dahlia?"

I bit my lip. I knew I was going to have to explain, but I didn't know how much Jonathan would want to reveal. Oh well, he could be mad. Someone had to know. "I went to go see Jonathan. When I got there, Mom, it was so bad." Tears clouded my vision and I wiped them away. "His grandmother had him outside. She was whipping him with a fucking switch. Over and over again."

My voice broke and I tried to hold back the sobs. I slid down the wall and I caught my mother's horrified look. She sat down next to me, pulling me to her. "Hun, what else? You need to tell me."

"She... tied him up. In an old church behind their house. She just left him there shirtless in the cold. There was so much blood, old blood on the alter. She just kept screaming at him, and it's all my fault." I kept choking back my sobs, falling apart.

"Baby, no, this isn't your fault-"

"It is! A... friend of hers saw me drop him off. It's all my fault. She called me a whore." My mom just ran her hands over my back soothingly for awhile and I calmed a little. "He can't go back there, Mom. He has nowhere else to go, so I brought him here. He doesn't even have any clothes or his glasses. I think she broke them."

"Don't worry, he's not going back. We're both going to go to bed and I'm going to call your father in the morning and see what he says to do. He's got to have a few of his lawyer friends on speed dial." She ran her hands through my hair and kissed my forehead, just inches where Jonathan had earlier. "You did the right thing, baby, and I'm so proud of you. Jonathan is welcome here as long as he needs us."

I gave her a big hug and we both stood. My mom went in ahead of me, I stayed out in the hallway to compose myself. I ran quickly tied my hair behind my neck and I took a few deep breaths before walking back inside.

I still heard Jonathan's light snoring so I walked back to my room and changed into pajamas, grabbing my other pillow and a throw blanket since Jonathan had my comforter. I glanced at my mom's door, the light was still on and I heard her talking to someone. I made my way back to the living room and put them in the chair, ducking into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my flushed face.

Jonathan was still asleep in the same position as before, thankfully. I smiled sadly before climbing into the recliner and turned off the TV. "Welcome home, Jonathan."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wow, this chapter took a lot out of me! I know it kind of differs from Jonathan's original story line, but since Nolan didn't really give Crane a back story, I'm taking inspiration from the older comics and kind of mixing things up. Things flow better after this chapter, I promise. It always takes me a few chapters to get back into the swing of writing. This is a short one just because I'm a single mom and my son doesn't like giving me time to write.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorite-d, and added Dal Niente to their alerts! I'm pleasantly surprised how many responses I've gotten to this and it really made my week. They really gave me more inspiration and drive, I appreciate every single one!


	5. 05

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**05**

**Structures**

It was early Monday morning when I woke up, a dream startling me out of my sleep. I groaned and tried to roll back over, forgetting I was in the recliner. Well, there went that idea.

I blinked tiredly, putting down the foot rest and standing, stretching and trying to work the kinks out of my neck. I stole a glance at Jonathan, he was still asleep facing me, his breathing even. I squinted at the clock, six-thirty. Well, apparently Mom wasn't forcing us to go to school today, that's a plus.

I stumbled my way into the kitchen, bouncing off the wall and startling my mother, who was getting out ingredients for breakfast. "Morning, Mom." I collapsed into one of the mismatched chairs, flinching when my knee struck the table. Yeah, I'm clumsy in the morning.

"Morning, hun. Regret sleeping in the chair yet?" She smiled at me.

I put my head on the table. "You have no idea. Have you talked to Dad yet?" My voice was muffled by the wood but I knew she could hear me.

"I did. When did you say Jonathan's birthday is?"

I thought, begging my brain to work. "Er.. it's Wednesday."

"Good. Your father just suggested that we wait it out, it's only two days away. Then Jonathan can stay here legally. With any luck, she won't report him missing." Mom cracked two eggs, putting them into a bowl and started whisking. "She doesn't seem to be candidate for Grandmother of the Year if you get what I'm saying, so hopefully we won't have a problem."

I nodded and stood, grabbing the tea kettle and adding water, setting it on the stove. I turned the dial to high and leaned against the counter. "What are we going to do about clothes? It's not like we have a bunch of mens stuff laying around. He also needs his glasses. He can't go back there, Mom. Even if I have to go get his clothes by myself."

She made a small sound of agreement. "We can run there after breakfast. Hopefully she'll see reason."

"I doubt it." We both jumped, I turned to see Jonathan leaning against the wall. He sent me a small smile. "I'm sorry. Good morning."

We echoed it back and I motioned for him to sit, bringing the whistling kettle off the stove. "Do you want coffee or tea? Or milk? Or orange juice? Or-" I cut myself off, realizing I was rambling. I blushed. What is wrong with me?

Jonathan gave me smirk. "Tea will be fine." He turned to look at my mother as I poured water into cups. "Thank you for letting my stay, Ms. Flynn. I'll be out of your hair shortly."

My mom tutted in that way all mom's do and shook her hair. "Sorry kiddo, no can do. You're stuck with us. Dahlia told me what happened and your grandmother is lucky that I'm not there beating down her damn door."

Jonathan shook his head. "I can handle it, Ms. Flynn."

I set the tea and sugar in front of him. "Right, because you were doing such a good job last night." He glared at me. "Sorry, my brain to mouth filter doesn't work before nine." I shrugged and sat next to him. "Just give in. Mom's not gonna let you go back there or anywhere else. You're in her clutches now, you'll never escape."

This time my mother was the one glaring at me. "Thank you, Dahlia. You really need to work on that filter of yours." I just smiled at her. "But she's right, at any rate. You're safe here, Jonathan, and you're welcome as long as you need to be here. As a parent, I can't let you go back there."

I watched Jonathan, waiting for him to blow up or something. He was too calm this morning, especially seeing as he was beaten with a switch the night before. However, his face was a cool mask, his blue eyes shining in the fluorescent lighting. He nodded, solemnly. "Alright, if you insist. I won't inconvenience you for long, though. I graduate in January."

I blinked. Say what? "How?"

Jonathan shrugged, sending me a smug look. "I have all my credits, I'm starting at Gotham in February. I've been accepted into the student teaching program, as well."

I was disappointed. I figured we'd have more time to get to know each other. Granted, we'd see each other when I moved, but that wasn't until July. I frowned, which Jonathan noticed. I quickly plastered a smile back on my face. "I guess a congratulations are in order, then." I moved to the door, "I'm getting a shower."

The shower cleared my head like it was supposed to. My crush on Jonathan was clouding my judgment, and with him living in the same tiny apartment as me, it was liable to get worse.

I ran a brush through my hair, spraying it like usual so it curled right. I stared at myself in the mirror. There were rings under my green eyes and my skin looked paler than usual. I looked at my mother's collection of make up and briefly considered it.

I shook my head, ridding myself of those thoughts. I never, ever wore make up. Never. I frowned at the tray and opened the door, grabbing my keys off the stand.

Jonathan and Mom were still in the kitchen, they were both eating. Mom looked up. "Hun, there's some pancakes in the oven for you."

I shook my head. "No, I'm gonna try to go get his stuff, if I'm not back in a couple hours, send out a search party." I walked out of the house, shutting the door behind me.

I only made it halfway to the stairs before I felt a hand on my wrist. I turned around and came face to chest with Jonathan Crane. I glared at him. "If we're moving in together, you need to wear a bell around your neck or something. I'm tired of you being a ninja."

He rolled his eyes. "Quit being immature, Dahlia." Oh, so we're back to that again, are we? "You don't need to do this, you know. Grandmother won't be kind."

"Yeah, I kind of gathered that when I saw her beating you." He didn't even flinch, the cold bastard. "You need your stuff and I have a car, so I'm getting it. It's not like she can beat me and if she does try, I have mace." I patted my bag.

He sighed. "Alright. Just... be careful. And keep that filter in check. She's not one to be crossed, Dahlia." I felt a light touch to my temple and he was gone, disappearing back into the door.

This man's moods are gonna give me whiplash.

* * *

><p>I didn't even bother to park at the top of the lane this time. I left the Charger idling in the gravel next to the station wagon and braced myself. This was definitely <strong>not<strong> on my list of things to do today. I quickly checked my bag, making sure my mace was easy to grab. Enough stalling.

I got out of my car and to my credit, didn't want to run until I reached the old oak door. I took a deep breathe and fought the nausea that came with my anxiety and knocked twice, wincing when it sounded louder than I meant it to be.

I didn't have to wait long. I heard foot steps and then the door opened, revealing Jonathan's grandmother.

She was exactly how I remembered her. She was very proper looking, with her graying hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She really didn't look a thing like Jonathan, her narrowed eyes being a dark brown and her skin had an olive tint to it. Her mouth was thin and pursed. I could tell she knew who I was, as she glanced to my car and back. "If it isn't the harlot."

I groaned. Is this really how we're going to start? "I'm Dahlia Cohen. I'm a friend of your grandson's, I was hoping you would be kind enough to let me pick up his things."

She smirked. The bitch actually smirked at me. "So, you're the one the sinner is staying with? Good riddance. You may get his things, and then be gone." She pulled open the door and let me inside.

The house was extremely clean. Even with the pealing wall paper and cracked floor boards, there wasn't a spec of dust to be found. I swallowed. "You have a beautiful home." She lead me up the curving staircase and she sent me a look over her shoulder. I shut up.

She lead me to the first room on the left, an immaculate space. It was free of clutter or any other identifying factors, not even a poster or sign on the bleak gray walls. The only reason I knew it was Jonathan's was his books floor. They must have gotten knocked over when she drug him out of the house, he wouldn't leave his books on the floor. There wasn't even a mattress on the bed, only a box springs and a thin sheet.

"There are boxes in the closet. You can use those to pack his things. Hurry, I'm tired of having sinners in my clean house." She didn't move from the doorway.

I had to be kind. I had to be calm. Jonathan needed his things. "Yes, ma'am."

I moved to the closet and got to work. I pulled out the boxes and started layering his books and clothes in them. His clothes were dark and clean, if I was with a friendlier woman I might joke how Jonathan had the same fashion sense as a sixty year old. But I doubt any joking would be well received with this woman.

I was working on fourth and final box in silence, aware that the witch was burning holes in my spine with her demon gaze. But I didn't dare turn back. I wasn't going to show any weakness to her. I almost jumped out of my skin when she spoke. "I wonder, do you think you can save him?"

I looked over my shoulder. "Excuse me?"

She finally moved into the room, her posture stiff and imposing. "Do you think you can save him, girl?"

I stood, I didn't like anyone standing over me, especially her. "I don't think I'm understanding the question, ma'am. Save him from what?"

"From himself, of course." The woman rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "Jonathan is cut out of the same cloth as his addict mother. She was tempted into damnation, just like him. He will fall just like she did. Do you really think you can save him?"

I frowned and backed up. "I don't think anything, ma'am. I'm just trying to help out a friend."

"_Let the lying lips be put to silence._" She quoted the Bible, smirking at me. "You think I don't see how you feel? You care far more about my weakling grandson than you have a right to. I can see it in your eyes, and how you braved being here in front of me after what you saw last night."

I gasped. "You knew?"

She chuckled, a rich sound. "Of course I knew. Why do you think I didn't lock the church door like I normally do? I wanted that little beast out of here and you gave me exactly what I wanted. You saw me beat my grandson and yet you still managed the courage to come here and face me. That takes a lot of courage, girl."

I didn't know what to say, I felt nauseated. "I just want him to be happy."

"You love him. You may not know it yet, but I can see it in him, too. From the first day that you spoke to him. But you will not be able to save him. My grandson is evil, he may not even realize it now. But he will. The demon lays buried deep in him and it will awaken when he is most vulnerable. It is hungry and it only feeds on fear. Fear and suffering and pain. It will tear him apart and Jonathan Crane will no longer exist. I hope, for your sake, that you aren't around when it happens."

My mouth was open and I closed it. I blinked and the woman was gone, disappearing down out the door. What the fuck? I needed to get out of here, and fast, before I had a heart attack.

I quickly finished and closed the last box before carrying them down, two at a time, to the charger. There were five boxes total. When I went back to grab the last box, I noticed something shiny on the bed that hadn't been there before.

I inched closer and smiled. Jonathan's glasses were on the end of the box springs. They weren't broken like I had feared, they didn't have a scratch on them. The black frames glinted in the poor light, like they had been cleaned recently. I picked them up carefully and put them into the pocket of my sweater.

I picked up the last box and made myself scarce. I closed the front door behind me, happy to see the last of that place. I loaded the box into my car and almost ran to the other side, throwing myself in and locking the doors. I was even paranoid enough to look in the back seats to make sure. It was only then did I allow myself a look at the house.

She was standing at the door fixing me with the darkest look imaginable. A shiver went up my spine. I urged the car forwards and sped up the road, my heart hammering in my throat.

* * *

><p>I couldn't get to the apartment soon enough. I basically threw myself out of the car, landing on my knees on the pavement. I breathed a deep sigh and held myself back from kissing the ground. Ew, D.G. Gross.<p>

I stood when I heard the door opened and Jonathan rushed out. I was about to call out a greeting but he was on me in seconds, bringing my face flush to his and looking in my eyes. "Are you alright? What did she do to you?"

I shook him off. "I'm alright, she didn't do anything."

He tried to push my eyelids up and attempted to look in my mouth. "You didn't drink or eat anything, did you? Didn't breathe in too deeply?"

"What?" I pushed him a back a bit further and shook my head. "Jonathan, she didn't do anything but talk down to me and call me a whore. I told you she wouldn't touch me, there would be a lawsuit on her door step. She's an old lady, scandals aren't her thing. Oh, but she told me you are pregnant with a demon."

Jonathan pulled back and blinked. "Well that's... tame." He looked at me with those eyes and I found myself froze to the spot. "Thank you, D.G. Really. I didn't expect you to go there on your own... but thank you." He turned, breaking the hold he had on me and I felt vertigo. He squinted through the side window. "I guess we'd better get these inside."

It dawned on me. "Wait!" I pulled him back from the car and pulled his glasses out of my pocket. I gently unfolded them and placed them on his face, giving his nose a peck on a stupid whim. I smiled when his eyes widened. "There. Now you can see."

He gave me one of those rare smiles in return and I knew everything was going to be alright, at least for a little while.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** **Here's number five! I'll have the next one out sometime next week hopefully. I've got family stuff for the rest of this week. But I promise, next Friday will be the absolute latest that it will be out.**

**Thank you again for all the alerts and reviews! I really, really can' believe the response I've been getting for this and it's making me super pumped to write the rest of the series! I already have the first chapter of the second part done, so it's definitely going to happen. =)**


	6. 06

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**06**

**Hit The Floor  
><strong>

I really, really should have realized that the news of Jonathan living with me was going to spread like wildfire. How, I'm not sure, seeing as I literally had no other friends other than him. But whatever, it is what it is, I guess.

It was Wednesday, also Jonathan's birthday. It was our first day back to school. We had taken yesterday off to get him situated in our apartment, which is really far too small for three people. But luckily, Jonathan didn't need much room. I just cleaned out half of my closet for his clothes and we set up a cheap bookcase in the living room for his books. He was still sleeping on the couch because we weren't sure where to put another bed and he refused to sleep in mine.

The day had gone by slow, really. It was finally the last period and then I'd be free. Well, not free exactly. But close enough. Jonathan and I had plans for after school, so time seemed to tick by at it's own leisure.

I was walking down the hall on my own headed to Trig. The hall was mostly empty seeing as there weren't many classes in this wing of the school. I had my head buried in a new book that I couldn't seem to put down and I didn't notice anyone approach me until I ran into them.

"Oh wow, sorry!" I dropped my book and looked up, my eyes locking with Boytoy's. He smiled at me. It was only then I noticed I was in the middle of a bully circle, with his friends flanking my right and a couple at my back. "Er... can I help you?"

He took a couple steps forward and I backed up. "Did you really think we were going to let you get away with what you did to Sherry?" I was pushed to the floor and I cursed. "You, an absolute nobody, taking on us, the popular crowd. Are you really that stupid? Or has fucking Scarecrow clouded your judgment?" I just glared at him and he grabbed my face, his hand crushing my jaw but I refused to flinch. "You listening, freak?"

"Go. To. Hell." I ground out, looking at him right in the eyes.

"You think you're real brave, don't ya? A brave girl from big bad Gotham. So what if you can take on Sherry, you sure as hell can't take us all on, now can you?" The asshole threw my head back and I felt it connect with the hard floor, stars popping up in front of my eyes. "You're not so brave, are you? You just had to make a name for yourself, didn't you?"

I tried to get back up and I felt a fist connect with my jaw, making me bite my tongue. I was knocked back to the floor, held my mouth, feeling it well up with blood. I spit the blood out, fighting the nausea. I gave a weak chuckle and brought myself to a sitting position. "Fuck you, dude. You think you're a big man, hitting a fucking girl. You'll end up at a fucking mini-mart somewhere, working sixty hours a week to support your wife and all those kids you know aren't yours. I'll be in Gotham, doing something that I love. So, who's the bigger person here?"

"Bitch!" He came at me again but I moved quickly and knocked him to his knees. "You're dead!" I kicked him in the middle of his back before one of the other ogres tackled me, landing hits in my ribs and my chest. I struggled to breathe and fight until someone pulled him off. Boytoy leaned down, "I'm going to enjoy this, you fucking whore."

He swung his leg back and it connected with my stomach, knocking what little air I had out of my chest. I blocked the kick to my face and was able to shove him off a little. I fought the urge to vomit.

Rough hands turned me onto my stomach and a fist grabbed me hair. I struggled, making him lose his grip twice, but Boytoy had apparently been lifting. Even with my training, I couldn't shake him off. "Just leave me the fuck alone!"

Two people grabbed my arms and pinned them down to the cold floor. My face was pushed into the puddle of blood I had spit out earlier. I felt something being poured on me, cold and sticky. The smell washed over me. Soda. Are you fucking kidding me?

"Sorry, freak, I can't do that just yet. You see, you've started some things. Sherry is in a bad way now, she won't even talk to me much anymore. It would make her feel a lot better to see what happened to you, I'm sure." I felt his stupid fucking cowboy boot press down on my back and he put his weight on it. I couldn't fight the scream that burst out of my throat as I felt a rib crack. "Maybe you're little freaky boyfriend will get the message, too. Fucker's been stalking me, telling me he'll be my 'worst nightmare' or some shit if I don't leave you alone. Can you believe that? The fucking Scarecrow has finally got some balls."

There were chuckles all around and I fought the darkness that was edging my vision. A quick kick to the other side brought my back to reality with a cry. "Fuck!"

"You should have stayed in Gotham, you don't belong here. We had Crane a razor blade away from killing himself and you had to walk in, playing savior." More kicks to my abdomen, one right after another. "Hell, if you would have just walked away you wouldn't be getting your ass kicked!" I gasped when I felt his weight on my lower back, pressing my cracked ribs to the floor. The boy grabbed my hair, lifting my face off the floor. My neck felt like it was going to snap. "Let this be a lesson to you. Tell your fuckbuddy Scarecrow he's next." I saw the floor approaching me and then there was nothing.

* * *

><p>"D.G.! Dahlia! Dahlia Grace Cohen! Wake up!" I blearily opened my eyes and saw a dark figure with bright blue hovering over me. The voice was familiar. "Dahlia, an ambulance is on the way here. Where does it hurt?" I gagged, feeling the blood pooled at the back of my throat. The person rolled me over and I vomited, my entire body shaking. The shaking hurt. "Damn it... Dahlia, who did this to you?"<p>

I worked hard to get my voice to work, but I could only get one word out. "Boytoy." I rolled onto my back despite the pain and my vision started to darken again. I saw blue orbs widen and realized they were eyes before the world went back again.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Cohen, can you hear me?" My eyelids felt heavy, like there were bricks holding them down. But it was bright outside of them. "Ms. Cohen, open your eyes if you can."<p>

I tried again and after some effort, my eyes were open. I flinched. I was right when I said it was bright. I felt weird. Like my eyelids, I felt like I was weighed down. "Where..?"

"You're in the hospital. Someone banged you up pretty badly." My eyes focused and I saw an elderly man over me. He was was balding and there were laugh lines around his green eyes. " My name is Doctor Larson. I'm your physician as long as you're here. Now, you might feel weird, but it's the pain medication. We needed you to rest so we could check you out, it will wear off in a few hours."

I looked around and I was in a generic hospital room. Private, too. It had light gray walls and a glass door and wall with shutters that must have lead to the triage part. There were two chairs that were pulled up to the bed, one closer than the other. I almost smiled. Mom had been here. "Where's Mom?"

The doctor chuckled. "She's outside. I didn't want too much to overwhelm you so quickly. If you're ready, I can call her in. She's giving a statement to the police."

I nodded and jumped when beep rang through the room. "_Paging Doctor Larson to trauma. Doctor Larson to trauma!"_ Doctor Larson sighed. "I'll send her in on my way out. Don't move unless you have a nurse helping, do you understand?" I nodded again. "Good, your cracked ribs will be sore for awhile. I'll be back later to check on you."

The man made his way out and it wasn't even a few seconds later that my Mom burst in, panicked. "Oh, Dahlia! You're alright!" She gave me a hug, careful of my injuries.

I gave her a small smile. My face was in pain, so I could only imagine that it looked like, "Yeah, I'm okay. How did I get here?"

"Jonathan found you in school and called the ambulance. He stayed at the school to sort your stuff out once the EMTs found out it was only minor injuries." She gave me a kiss on the forehead. " Who did this to you, baby?"

I frowned and leaned back against the pillows. "Mom..."

She noticed the look on my face and wasn't having any of it. "No. You are going to tell the police, hun. They are not going to get away with this."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Well, tried to, anyways. "Mom, it's not your fight."

It must have dawned on her, it was written all over her face. "It was that girl that you poured pop on, wasn't it?"

"It was her boyfriend."

Her face darkened. "Fuck!" My eyebrows shot up. Mom never cursed. She stood. "I'm going to go tell the police that you're ready to talk."

I sighed but acquiesced. No use denying it now.

She was only gone for a few minutes before the door opened. I looked up from where I was studying my broken nails, shocked to see Jonathan closing the door behind him. He walked over and sat in Mom's chair. He appeared to study me, his eyes piercing. Neither of us spoke for awhile. Finally, he sat back. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a Peterbilt." I tried to roll my neck to crack it and winced. He gave me an odd look. "A semi."

He nodded. "You look awful." I gave him a dirty look and he shrugged. "You do."

I was saved from replying by the door opening again. This time my mom came in, followed by a young police officer. She motioned him over and Jonathan went to stand, only to have my mom force him back into the chair. "Stay, Jon." I almost laughed at the nickname Mom had given him. I could tell he was less than pleased with it. "Officer Dewitt would like to talk to both of you."

The man smiled at me. He almost reminded me of Jonathan, kind of bookish. But by the medals on his uniform, I could tell he wasn't one to mess with. "Ms. Cohen, I need to ask you a few questions."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have at it. But call me D.G. please."

"Alright. D.G., then. Your mother told us that it was Michael Henry that did this to you?"

I was confused, but then I realized that must be Boytoy's real name. Man, I was off. "Yes, sir."

"Do you remember about what time it happened?"

I thought. "I was walking to last period. So, about one?"

He nodded. "How did it happen?"

"I was walking to last period and I wasn't paying attention. I ran into Boy-er, I mean Michael. He said some awful things about me deserving what I got and, well, you see the end result." I waved a hand over myself to emphasize.

He nodded again, writing in a notepad. "D.G., did you hear what happened after that?"

I shook my head, groaning when it made the world spin. Jonathan steadied me. "No, but having your head beat against the floor tends to do that."

The officer gave me a small smile. "Alright. I was just asking, because I wanted to know where they were headed." He sighed and took off his hat, running his hands through his dark hair. "I asked, because Michael Henry and Sherry Williams were in an accident on the way home from school. Mr. Henry swerved and the car hit a tree."

I gasped, my hand going to my mouth. I noticed Jonathan stilling out of the corner of my eye. Yes, they were awful kids and tortured everyone, but did they deserve that? "Are they..?" I trailed off, hoping he would know what I was asking.

"Williams was pronounced dead on scene. Henry is alive, but he's undergoing surgery right now."

"My god." My mom had her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. She was undoubtedly wishing death on the boy who had put her daughter in the hospital and was probably regretting it.

"What I need to know now, D.G., is whether you want to press charges against Mr. Henry."

Surprising even myself, I shook my head. "No. What's done is done."

He nodded and put his notepad away. "I will be in touch, D.G., Ms. Flynn. Mr. Crane, if I could speak to you outside, please."

Jonathan nodded and stood, following the officer out of the room without even a glance behind him. Okay, be like that then.

I settled back into the bed, frowning. "I can't believe this."

I looked to Mom to see her shaking her head. "Neither can I. No one deserves that, even if they are bullies. They're just kids."

I couldn't help but agree.

* * *

><p>Jonathan came back in an hour later, looking calm and cool as usual. I had already sent Mom home, so I figured he would have went with her. It was then I realized that it was his birthday. Fuck.<p>

He was sitting on the chair closest to the bed and was reading me his Psych notes and I had to interrupt. "I'm so sorry, I forgot it was your birthday!"

He just raised an eyebrow. "I hardly expected you to remember, Dahlia, after getting your face bashed off the floor.

I just glared at him. "When you get back home-" he cringed a little. "Your present is on the my stand below the violins. Go ahead and open it."

His cool mask broke for a second, shock broke through before he quickly composed himself. "You didn't need to get me anything."

I shrugged and winced. "Er, that hurts. Anyways, I know I didn't have to. But it's your birthday, and I wanted to."

"Well, then. I'll wait until you get home. You are being released in the morning."

I perked up. "Really?" I was already tired of staring at these lame gray walls and there was only so many times you could count ceiling tiles.

He nodded. "At eight, I believe."

I smiled. At least there was some good news. "What did the cop want with you?"

He shrugged, his icy eyes finding his notes again. A chunk of his dark fair fell into his face, which he promptly pushed back. "Asking me how long they had bothered me, that sort of thing. Making sure I didn't have anything to do with the accident, I suppose."

My brows furrowed together. "Of course you didn't. What would you do, rig their car? That's ridiculous."

"I'm glad we agree on that." He flipped a page in the notes. "We're having a test tomorrow, but you obviously won't be going to class. You'll have an extra day to prepare for it."

I picked up a hand mirror my mom left at my bedside. I looked at myself, wincing. I had a busted lip that was a dark purple, matching the bruise on the left side of my jaw. I had a bandage across my forehead where the skin busted from being bounced off the floor. "What kind of man hits a woman?" I touched my lip gently, hissing.

"He's no man, Dahlia." Jonathan closed the notes and leaned closer to me, making my heart pick up it's pace. His eyes scanned the bruises and bandages before flicking to mine. "You will not be hurt again, I promise you that. Not by Michael Henry, or anyone."

There was something in his eyes that took me back to what his grandmother said. _'I can see it in him, too. From the first day that you spoke to him." _I blinked and tried to stop thinking, but my heart beat faster.

Jonathan leaned closer, his face intent. His eyes had a fire in them I had noticed before. "What are you thinking, I wonder?" His lips were so close to mine that I could literally feel his breath on my parted lips, tasting of mint and something else... chocolate? His hands were resting near my legs and he was just so close in a way that made my chest ache and not from the cracked ribs.

"What do you fear, I wonder?" What? I was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but the soft touch of his lips against mine stilled all thoughts in my mind and made my eyes close.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy New Years Eve! I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays as much as I did! I knew I said this would be out later, but again I had so many ideas, I had to type them out. I also have a bit more time tonight, so I'll answer a few reviews while I'm at it.**

**t0ki- Thank you so much! I know that my writing style is a bit... different than most so I'm glad you enjoy it! I hope you enjoyed this one, too. =)**

**9aza- I actually really didn't want to make his grandmother completely evil. I mean, she's a child abuser, so obviously she has problems... But I digress. Thank you so much for the reviews, I love getting them.**

**pourquoibella- I love your name! Anyways, thank you so much! I'm glad you like it!**

**PurgatoryNymphe- Jonathan's grandmother knows a lot more than D.G. does, that's for sure. =) I don't really see Jonathan as being out of character so to speak... We really only see adult Jonathan in the movie and in the comics, he didn't have the influence of D.G. so with those variables, he would act a bit differently I think. I mean, in this part of the story, he's only a teenager so he hasn't had his first taste of blood yet (maybe... hehe) and he has someone supporting him. He won't be a completely different person, but his attitude would be a little different. Anyways, I'm rambling haha. Thank you so much for the reviews, I love getting the emails saying you left one!**

**Anyways, thanks for all the reviews, alerts, favorites, everything! They give me so much drive for this and without that, I'd probably spend my evenings watching Doctor Who. =) **


	7. 07

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**07**

**Tonight**

"Be careful, Dahlia! One step at a time!" I rolled my eyes for the hundredth time and tried to push Jonathan away from me, but he didn't budge. For a skinny kid, he had a lot of strength.

"Jonathan what-ever-your-middle-name-is Crane, back off! I can handle walking up a flight of freaking stairs on my own!" Jesus Christ.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed and his grip on my waist only tightened. I winced and he caught it. "That's what I thought. Just let me help you. We're three steps away."

"I hate you." I pouted. Childish or not, I didn't care. My pride was now wounded along with my ribs.

"You didn't last night."

I felt my face heat up and I tried to reign in the urge to kill him. Blood would be hard to mop up on the stairs, especially with sore ribs. Instead I pushed him, this time he took a step back. "You kissed me!"

"You reciprocated."

"You started it!"

"Yes, but I'm not the one claiming to hate you." I just groaned and stumbled to the last step. His hands were back on my hips in a heartbeat. "Why won't you just let me help you?"

"Because you're acting like I broke my back. I just have some cracked ribs, I'll be alright!" He pushed open the door to the hallway and I just walked through, trying to get ahead of me. Of course, it was pointless, he was at my side in less than a second, his hand grabbing mine. My mouth opened before I could stop it. "Is this the kind of boyfriend you're going to be?"

I stopped and held my mouth. Fuck, that wasn't supposed to come out. I stole a glance at Jonathan, he too had stopped and had raised a thin eyebrow at me. His eyes were amused, like he was silently laughing at me. Fuck. "Is that what you consider me? Your boyfriend?"

Ugh. Here we go with the psychoanalysis. "I don't know! I mean, we're together pretty much all the time, you've kissed me more than once, and you give me these heated looks. But you're so goddamn arrogant and at times like these, I want to punch you in the face! So there." I barely resisted the urge to stomp my foot like a toddler.

Both eyebrows were raised now and he was smirking. I was about to tell him exactly where he could stick his smirk when he leaned down, capturing my lips with his. He was gentle and careful again, very aware that my lip was still a little swollen from my assault. His hands found my waist and I carefully slid my arms around his neck, pulling him just a little closer. A nipped my lip and I gasped, a little from pain and a little from something else I wasn't quite ready to identify. He took it as an open invitation, his tongue stroking mine. I almost melted, and I don't melt. Where the hell had this guy learned to kiss?

He pulled away and gave me another one of those smiles. "Yes, I guess I am your 'boyfriend', then."

I sighed. What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

* * *

><p>I had apparently gotten myself into never leaving my bed. And not for a good reason, either.<p>

Between Jonathan and my mother, someone kept a near constant eye on me, the only privacy I got was when I was showering or something, and my mother still tried to come in to see if I needed help. She got a shampoo bottle to the stomach as an answer. After being basically cover in soda for almost twenty-four hours (those creepy spongebaths they make you take don't do anything except strip you of your dignity), I just wanted a quiet shower.

I'm probably being harsh. I know that. But I was almost ready to go back to the hospital. I at least had alone time there.

It had taken an hour to get them convinced that I could sit in the recliner. If I was going to be stuck to a piece of furniture for the next couple of days, I needed a TV near by. Maybe I'd grab Jonathan's weird fear book and read it. I was that bored.

Jonathan was sitting across from me on his makeshift couch bed, holding his still unopened gift in his hands. He had refused to open it until I got home. I raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna open it?"

He shot me a look and carefully took off the paper, making sure not to rip it. Are you serious? He slid a finger under the seams and the tape tore, before I knew it. He was putting the perfect paper back on the table. Ridiculous. When he looked down at his gift and smiled, I knew I had gotten the right thing.

It was a handsome black leather journal. It was plain, but the leather was hand stitched. It was thick, even if he used it daily it would take years to fill it. It had Jonathan Crane written all over it. Not literally, of course. That would be tacky. I had gotten it at a small bookstore in the heart of Atlanta, it was pricy but the look on Jonathan's face was worth it. His eyes were wide and he held the journal like it was precious. He opened it and his mouth turned upward as he flipped through the crisp, blank pages. He finally looked up and I could see his eyes were brighter. "Thank you, D.G. I... really don't know what to say."

I just grinned and pulled my knees to my chest. "You're welcome. I knew when I saw it that it was yours. I'm sorry it's late, though. And I never made you dinner."

Jonathan chuckled. "I hardly think even you can cook in your state."

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. Yeah, I'm **that** mature. "Whatever, Crane. The only reason that I can't do anything is because you and my crazy mother have me stuck in this chair."

He shrugged, his attention still on the journal. "I could make you go back to bed."

"Only if you come with me." The look on his face killed me. I burst out laughing, gasping when I felt my ribs complaining against the strain. Who knew Jonathan Crane could blush?

I had finally convinced Jonathan to let me move to the couch with him. We were watching a movie that really wasn't holding my attention, I dozed on and off with my head on his chest and his arm around me.

It all started with my head on his shoulder. I was tired and he was the only available pillow. Really, he was. He stiffened when I laid my head there, his face going cold. I knew he didn't like body contact unless he instigated it, but he was just going to have to get used it. He was the one who started this whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing by kissing me, even if I was the one who put the labels to it. I yawned. My pain meds were kicking in and I was suddenly exhausted.

Jonathan noticed my yawn and his face softened a little. Silently, he pushed me off. I rolled my eyes but he then wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer so that my head was resting on his chest. He leaned his head against mine and I couldn't help but smile.

I knew it had to be hard to let someone this close to him. We'd only known each other a few weeks, even though to me it felt like I have known him for years. He had been abused for years, and for all I know, he may not have had a friend before. So I really did appreciate that fact that he was trying to let me in.

I don't know if it was a drug-addled brain or just how comfortable I was, but I felt like I needed to tell him. "Thank you."

My voice must have startled him, he twitched, but his eyes never left the screen. "For what?"

I snuggled in closer. "For letting me in."

He finally looked at me and his gaze was calculating, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a firm line. He held me in that gaze for a minute before the ice in his eyes softened just a little. He turned back to the TV but pulled me even closer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Hmm." If I wasn't half asleep, that statement probably would have worried me. I yawned again, my eyes drooping. I was so content and warm, it seemed only logical to take a cat nap even if it was only six in the evening. I was almost out when a knock sounded at the door.

I bolted up and Jonathan turned his head. He gave spared me a glance and pushed me down as he stood up . "Stay."

I saluted. "Yes, sir!"

He made sure to look over his shoulder and roll his eyes, making his way to the door. I heard him slide the chain over and then opened the door. "What do you want, Collins?"

"So, it's true then. You really are shacked up with Cohen." That was definitely a male voice. At that I stood up and carefully made my way over to the door, hoping Jonathan wouldn't notice.

Of course he did, because he gave me a look that made me stop in my tracks, in full sight of the open door. "Dahlia isn't feeling well, thanks to you. Vacate the premises or I'm calling the police."

I looked around Jonathan and saw one of Michael Henry's friends, Todd Collins. He had a darker skin tone and dark eyes. He wore the usual popular get up, letter man jacket and jeans. He was one of the guys that helped him corner me. I narrowed my eyes.

The kid caught sight of me and his eye widened. "Cohen, I just wanted to talk to you." He moved forward but Jonathan put a hand on his chest, pushing him back out with that strength of his. You could tell that Collins wasn't expecting it, he almost stumbled. "What is your problem, Scarecrow?"

Jonathan braced himself in the narrow doorway and leaned out, I moved forward until I was almost even with him and I saw something... frightening flicker in his face. "I know that you helped him put her in the hospital, Collins." He didn't even look like himself anymore. I backed up a little. What the fuck?

Collins wasn't getting the memo, though. He stood, eye to eye with Jonathan. "It went too far! We were just going to intimidate her! Michael took it too far!"

"I don't care who started it!" There was an edge to his voice now. "You could have stopped it and you didn't. You let him beat her and if you come near her again, I will make your life a living nightmare." A smile crossed his face, and it wasn't a happy one. "Tell me, Mr. Collins, what do you fear?"

"Fuck you!" Todd Collins backed up and sent a glance my way. "I'm sorry, Cohen." He quickly disappeared down the hall.

Jonathan shut the door and redid the chain. I raised an eyebrow. "What did you just do?"

"Besides made sure that he never bothers you again?" Jonathan leaded me back to the couch. He helped me sit down and then sat down opposite of me. "I told you no one is ever going to hurt you again."

I bit my lip. "I know... it was kind of scary, though. Your face..."

He lifted my chin and pressed his mouth to mine. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against mine, careful of the bandage. His beautiful eyes were locked with mine and I felt myself getting sucked in. "Dahlia, you have absolutely nothing to fear, do you understand?"

I nodded. "I can fight my own battles, you know."

"I know, but now you don't have to." I leaned my head back against the couch and sighed. Jonathan frowned. "Are you getting tired?"

I shook my head. Well, tried to. Didn't really work with the head on the couch thing. Moving on. "No. But I think I'm hungry. Where's Mom when I need her?"

" She left when you were dozing." Wow, had I really fallen asleep? My concept of time sucks. "She said something about clothes and shopping. She said she'd be home late."

Curious. "What was she wearing?"

Jonathan furrowed his brow. "You seriously expect me to remember what she was wearing? That's a little strange, D.G., even for you."

I rolled my eyes. "No, **Jonathan**. Just answer me this, was she wearing a skirt?"

He looked even more confused. "I...think so?"

"I knew it!" I grinned triumphantly. "She's going out on a date. That's why she snuck out when I was passed out."

"Hmm.. That would explain why she looked around the corner before she came into the room."

I chuckled weakly, surprised when it didn't hurt. Oh, right. Pain meds. "For as smart as you are, sometimes you're really dense."

He gave me a fake offended look. "It's not like I have much experience in this field, you know. The whole... domestic life."

I grinned. My face immediately sobered when I remembered his back. "How is your back?"

His good mood vanished. "Almost healed."

I kind of wished I hadn't said anything. But, hey, life can't be all puppies and rainbows. We were both walking examples of it, him with his scars and me with my fresh injuries. I didn't want to be pushy, but I had to ask. "Can I.. see it?"

The mask slid back into place and the happy boy I liked was gone, replaced by a stranger with icy eyes. It was well practiced, a defense mechanism built over many years of abuse and neglect. This boy I had come to care so much for had been through Hell all by himself, and definitely wasn't used to having someone care. "I'd rather you didn't."

I shrugged and smiled shyly. "You see mine."

That apparently did it, because his face softened. "How do you do that?"

Consider me confused. "Do what?"

"You always know exactly what I need to hear."

I smirked and pretended to flip my hair. "It's just one of my many charms."

He just gave me this soft look, full of emotion that I couldn't quite define but made my heart speed up none the less. He sighed and turned around, pulling off his black shirt.

I tried not to gasp. I had seen him shirtless before, but that dark night did him no justice, really.

He wasn't skinny, he was lean. There was defined muscle beneath the skin, probably from the years of manual labor that I'm sure his grandmother put him through. His skin would have been flawless if it wasn't for the scars.

The scars were much worse than I had originally anticipated. They weren't just across his shoulder blades, they were damn near down his entire back. Only the newer ones, scabbed over, were located on his shoulders. The scars were damn near everywhere; vertical, horizontal, diagonal. They wrapped around his back to touch his ribs, the tops of his shoulders, probably his hips, too. Most of them were thin and looked like they had went deep. However, there were a few that were made by a thicker weapon, they were pretty shallow. They were almost beautiful, in a morbid way.

Before I realized it, my hand was tracing over them and poor Jonathan jumped. Right, boundary issues. He turned back to me and that revealed a whole new landscape. His upper arms were covered in tiny bumps, grouped in three and in a straight line. They almost looked like- "Oh my fucking god. She stabbed you with a fork?"

Jonathan shrugged and quickly pulled his shirt back on. "This was a mistake." He went to stand but I pulled him back down.

"No, you don't. Those scars don't change a thing, they're part of you. But they are not **you**." I frowned. "I'm sorry for what she did to you, and the face that no one was there to help you. What that bitch did was wrong, hell, what everyone has done to you so far is wrong. But you didn't let it break you, and that is amazing."

I was rambling so I turned red and promptly shut my mouth. Jonathan looked amused, the elusive good mood apparently back in place. He smirked at me. "You really aren't like anyone else, are you?"

I scoffed. "Please. Who in their right mind would want to be like me?" My stomach grumbled and I turned red again, causing Jonathan to chuckle.

* * *

><p>We ended up ordering in. I wanted Chinese and Jonathan hadn't had it before, so it was the perfect idea. It was going on nine and we were still on the couch, our shoulders touching as we ate our unhealthy dinner and watched a mindless comedy. I was completely miffed that I couldn't use chop sticks but Jonathan could, even though he'd never touched them before.<p>

Where had he learned? A book. Big surprise, right?

We were just getting to the part where the two tween twins (try saying that five times fast) had met each other when the door open, my mother trying to sneak in. Can't let that happen. "Hey, mom!"

She jumped and I had time too look at her clothes. Skirt, nice blouse, hair done. Yep. It was a date. She turned around, sheepish. "Dahlia... I didn't expect you to be awake."

I smiled at her. "Obviously. Want some Chinese? You can tell us about your date."

"Dahlia!" I gave Jonathan a 'shut-up' look and he gave an exasperated sigh. "Hello, Ms. Flynn."

"Hello, Jon. How did you find out, Dahlia?"

I grinned. "He told me you were wearing a skirt."

She sighed and sat down. "Don't worry, it didn't go anywhere."

I frowned. "Mother, I really do not care if you date. Actually, I'm all for it. It's about time you get over Dad and his slut."

Jonathan rolled his eyes and tuned us out, starting eating again. With chopsticks. That really pisses me off.

Mom just smiled. "Are you sure? Because if you aren't comfortable-"

I handed her a box of food which she took with a smile. "Mom, do whatever makes you happy. As long as he's not an asshole. Because if he is, I reserve the right to run him off the property."

"Of course. Like I would have it any other way. So, how was your day?"

"Oh, you know. Death, destruction. Mass panic. Normal day at the office."

Her attention was turned to Jonathan who was _still_ ignoring me. "Did you keep her confined to the couch?"

He nodded, eyes finally moving off the TV. "Of course."

I glared at her. "You're well versed in the art of torture, you know that? First the name and now this."

"Dahlia is a gorgeous name."

I groaned. "Sure, if you want to be named after a murder victim."

Jonathan raised his eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that she got Dahlia off the Black Dahlia?"

I looked at Mom, who was suspiciously eating very quickly. "Ask her. Quick, before she runs away."

Mom sighed and put the box on the table. "Yes, Dahlia is named after the Black Dahlia. There, are you happy?"

I smiled. "As happy as I can be being named after a famous murder." I gave Jonathan a look. "Now you know why I prefer D.G."

"Dahlia is still a great name, no matter where she got the name from."

Okay, my 'boyfriend' and my mom getting along? Not as great as I thought it would be.

"Dahlia, have you talked to your father about our trip?"

Oh, that reminded me. "Er, no."

"What trip?"

"We are planning on going to Gotham this year for Christmas and New Years. Dahlia wants to visit her father and look at apartments for next year and I need to visit my sister. You're more than welcome to come."

Jonathan looked like the idea made him uncomfortable. "I don't know..."

"It's not a big deal. We're taking both cars anyways." I put my box down on the coffee table and brought my knees to my chest. "You should probably come, you know. Get to know Gotham. You're gonna be moving up there in a couple months." Goodbye good mood.

He looked contemplative for a moment. "Alright. You'll show me around?"

I smiled softly, trying to push back the sadness I felt at the thought of him leaving so soon. "Of course!"

Because, at least, we had these next couple months together.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry if this was boring for you guys. It was pretty much a filler chapter to show some interaction between D.G. and Jonathan and to help them move along a bit. There's going to be another time jump between this one and the next one, possibly. Things will get more interesting then, too. Promise.**

**I hope you guys liked it! I actually had fun writing it, and it's pretty long compared to the others.**

**9aza- Yeah, that wasn't originally the plan, but it worked out pretty well I think. D.G. can handle it, she's from Gotham. She can handle almost anything. =) I love the comics and they give Jonathan a great back story. But I feel some of it doesn't fit in with Nolanverse, so I give it my own spin to make it fit better. In my mind, at least. Thanks for the review!**

**Big fan- I'm sorry it gave you a headache! Coincidentally I had one writing that chapter haha. I'm glad you liked it and I hope you like this one, too!**

**iwishtheskywasgreen- Thank you so much! This story is my baby, so I love getting good feedback on it. Crane is a complex character and he's only gonna get more so from here on out. I hope you like this one, too!**

**PurgatoryNymphe- Don't worry, this story and the next three parts will be finished! I'm fully confident of that now. I have so much drive, I've been staying up to midnight to finish it. Not the smartest move since my little one gets up early, but worth it. As for the rest, you're gonna have to stay with the story and find out. All will be revealed in time. =)**

**SladeRavenFan- Thank you! I changed around Sherry and Bo's (the original characters from the comic) because I wanted them to be a bit different, not the run of the mill background characters. That, and I just really, really hate the name Bo. Haha Jonathan, to me, is a very complex character. I love him, he's always been my favorite Batman villain. I feel that Scarecrow is another personality, not necessarily one that he likes or that he can control, but a product of his abuse and neglect. But, we'll see how this story decides he is, it's basically writing itself at this point. Thanks for being so responsive, I love getting your feedback!**

**pourquoibella- I'm glad it's keeping you interest! My biggest worry is that I'll end up boring people with it haha. I hope you'll like this one, too!**

**CD- Is it even possible to love anything as much as Jonathan Crane? I love him, too. And thank you, D.G. is just so fun to write. She's like my muse, constantly poking me and making me write more. She's rather demanding.**

**Thank you everyone for the reviews, alerts, favorites, everything! I can't believe how popular this story is becoming! It's given me so much drive to work on the rest of it! I hope you liked this one just as much!**


	8. 08

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun

**08**

**Don't Trust Me**

It had been almost a week since my assault and consequential hospital visit. My face no longer looked like I had been hit by a train and I could finally laugh without feeling like my chest was going to cave in.

I was sitting in the Charger in the hospital parking lot. I had an appointment with Doctor Larson to see if I was finally able to go back to school. I looked at the clock. I was a half an hour early because I misjudged traffic.

Well, there was no use in waiting around in the car. I turned off the ignition and stepped out, making sure to lock my door behind me. I made the quick walk to the main entrance, squinting in the sunlight. I really missed Gotham at times like this. It was November, there was supposed to be snow and cold. Not sun and beaches.

The hospital main entrance was pretty empty except for the bored looking receptionist. I got an idea in my head and walked over. The blonde looked up and gave me a blank stare. "Can I help you?"

Obviously. "What room is Michael Henry in?" This was probably a bad idea, but I'm going with it anyways.

She checked the computer. "Fourth floor, room 412."

"Thanks." I walked towards the elevator. This is probably a very, very bad idea. But I had to know.

I hit the up button and started to bounce on my heels. "D.G.?"

I really jumped. I turned and saw Belinda from Psych class. I looked at the clock, she should still be in school. "Oh, hey Belinda. What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my mom. She's going through a round of chemo and they're keeping her for the week. How are you doing? You look pretty good."

"I'm sorry to hear that." And I really was. "I'm doing better. I'm here to get the okay to go back to class."

"Good, the school misses you." She stood back as the elevator beeped. "But, hey, if you go back to school tomorrow, you and Crane should sit with us at lunch."

I nodded and waved as she walked down the hall towards her destination. I considered it as I walked into the elevator. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to have a new friend, especially since Jonathan was leaving.

I made way to the fourth floor and found myself standing outside of room 412. I knocked and heard Michael tell me to come in.

I walked in and noted that the room was exactly like mine had been, other than he had a TV. He was sitting up in bed, strapped to monitors and IVs. He looked good, a little banged up. I noticed a wheel chair next to his bed, apparently he hadn't came out of the crash unscathed.

He looked away from the TV and when he saw me, his eyes widened. "Cohen, what are you doin' here?"

I shrugged and made my way over to the chair furthest from the bed. I sat in it, dropping my messenger bag to the floor. "I wanted to see how you were."

"Even after what I did to you?"

"Even after what you did to me." I sat back and regarded him. "Karma did more damage than I ever could have."

He looked down at the bed. "I'm paralyzed from the hips down. I can't feel anything. The doctors said it may get better, but it may not." He looked back up and he looked more vulnerable than I had ever seen anyone. "Sherry is gone. Her funeral was yesterday. I didn't even get to say goodbye."

I stood and moved to a chair closer and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry, Michael. I really am. What happened means nothing compared to what you went through."

"Why are you being so nice? I heard you had to spend the night in the hospital because of me."

"Because..." I thought for a minute. "Because in the end, none of this shit matters. It's high school. And a girl died. Yeah, she was awful to me. But she's still a human and it's still a tragedy." I stood. "But I have to go. I'm only here because I was early for my doctor's appointment. I wish you luck, Michael."

I started to walk out but the boy called me back. "D.G., there's something I have to tell you." I paused and turned around, an eyebrow raised. "I swerved because I saw someone in the road. I think it may have been Crane."

I furrowed my brow. "Really? I sighed and ran a hand over my face. "Jonathan was at the school getting my books. The librarian vouched for him. He's been cleared."

He looked down again. "I may be wrong... the face was covered by a sack or something... his body just reminded me of Crane."

"It wasn't Jonathan Crane, Henry."

With that, I walked out of the room. He had to be wrong, there's no way it could have been Jonathan.

Right?

* * *

><p>I was cleared by Doctor Larson to go back to school. My ribs were healing nicely, I didn't even have to wear bindings anymore. He gave me strict instructions, though, which included no P.E. Damn, I'm really upset about that one. End sarcasm.<p>

I stopped by the store to pick up some dinner so it was almost dark by the time I reached the apartment. I made sure to lock the Charger up before making my way inside the building. I took a deep breath and braced myself. Stairs still sucked, they made my ribs ache. I opened the door to the stairwell and almost jumped out of my skin.

Jonathan was sitting on the bottom stair, one of his many books in hand. He looked up and sent me a small smile. "Hey."

I gave him a weird look and set the bags down. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting on you, of course. I know that stairs still hurt your ribs." He stood and brushed his pants off neatly. "Your mother also told me that she wanted you to pick up a couple things, and that would only make it harder on you."

"Thanks." A small smile came to my face. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long." He shrugged, making his way to me. "Ten minutes, at most."

I didn't know how to act. This relationship thing between us was new, and I know that Jonathan didn't have much experience either. Do I kiss him? Or do I wait to for him to initiate it? This is why I didn't handle this crap well, I never knew what to do. I was debating on telling him what Henry said. I decided against it, it was stupid. No need to get him worked up over it.

Hands on my hips, Jonathan brought me flush against him. I cautiously wrapped my arms around his neck, and looked up at him. His eyes found mine and I found myself enthralled in them yet again. They were just such a bright blue, they almost seemed to glow. He leaned in until his soft lips found mine and my mind finally stopped racing.

I pulled away after a few moments, smiling. "We should probably get this stuff up stairs before Mom hunts us down." I put my head on his chest and yawned.

"Are you tired?" He put his head against mine. I nodded, smirking when he moved his head. "You're probably right then, we should get you up stairs." Jonathan picked up the bags in one hand and grabbed my hand in the other, gently guiding me up the stairs.

We reached the apartment and I pushed open the door for Jonathan, closing it behind me. He disappeared into the kitchen while Mom looked around the counter, a white powder on her nose. I'm assuming it is flour, though sometimes I think that cocaine wouldn't be too big of a stretch.

"Dahlia! How was your appointment?"

I made my way to the kitchen, wincing every now and then. The stairs took a lot out of me, I guess I'm cursing the fact that I was the one who wanted to live in a building without an elevator.

Mom was standing at counter, an apron on and I could smell biscuits in the oven. Jonathan was at the table, pulling apart the chicken. I collapsed in the chair, sore and exhausted. "It went alright. I'm allowed to go back to school,but no Phys Ed for six weeks. Do you need help?"

"You're still in pain, just sit still." I rolled my eyes. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, Dahlia Grace." Isn't_ funny_ how mothers seem to have eyes in the back of their heads? "So, we have something we all need to talk about."

I leaned my head on the table and stole a look at Jonathan. He was finishing carving the chicken, a concentrated look on his face. Every movement he made was methodical and perfect. Unbelievable. Is there anything this boy isn't good at? Well, besides contact sports, anyways.

I looked back at my mom and noticed she was looking at me, both brows raised. "Er, right. What about?"

The timer dinged and she moved to the oven, breaking me of her glare. "That."

"What?"

Now Jonathan was looking up, clearly amused. "I think she's talking about us, Dahlia." I gave him a look and he smirked. "Your mother is very observant."

"I know you two are together, and I knew that you would be when I let you move in. But now that it's here we need to establish some ground rules." She pulled the biscuits off the tray, plopping them on a plate. "One- no closed doors while I'm here. Now, I don't care what you two do on your own time-"

"MOTHER!" My face was beat red and Jonathan was barely holding back laughter. Bastard.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry this is so short! My son and I are both sick. =( I wanted to upload this, though, so you guys don't think I'm quitting on you. The next (longer) one will be out as soon as I can think straight enough to get it up.**

**pourquoibella- Thank you! The split won't be for long, though, so no worries.**

**forgetmenotflowers- She really is a fun character to write. She's really mouthy and fun, which is the complete opposite of boring old me haha. Hope you enjoy this one, even though it's rather short.**

**PurgatoryNymphe- The Scarecrow part was pretty fun to write. I've been keeping him under wraps for awhile so I figured he could have some fun for once. You'll see what happens soon. Thanks for the review!**

**iwishtheskywasgreen- Thank you so much! I hope you like this one, too!**

**SladeRavenFan- The Black Dahlia is actually a murder victim from back in the 40s. Her real name was Elizabeth Short. She was a young woman in California that was found naked, sawed in half, with a Glasgow Smile carved into her face. That's where I got the name. If you would like, there's plenty more info online. It is a really tragic murder, especially given that they never caught who did it. And I kind of felt back for Collins, too. I've always viewed Crane as being possessive, though, especially since he's not used to regular human contact. So it would be normal for him to hold on to whoever he finally let in and protect it from everything else, I think. I hope you like this one, too!**

**9aza- Thank you! I kind of worried that it may have been too early, but I'm happy with it. Don't be jealous of my "writing skills", they're really not that great, and I have to fight with them quite often. Thank you again for the continued feedback.**

**Thanks again for the alerts, favorites, everything! I hope you guys like this one and will forgive me if it's awful. Writing while sick was never a strong suite of mine. The next one will be up next week at the very latest. Once I kick the cold or whatever I have.**


	9. 09

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**09**

**Always**

It was the middle of the night when I woke up. I groaned and fought the urge to roll over. I pushed myself to my elbows and squinted at the clock, _2:34 A.M. _ What the hell am I doing up?

I tried to lay back down and after what felt like forever, I realized my throat was dry. I looked at the clock again, _2:36 A.M. _Fuck.

I sat up running a hand through my bedhead and stood, swaying. I still felt like I needed to sleep for another five years or so, but there was no use now. I stumbled my way out into the living room to go into the kitchen, but noticed that the light was on.

Jonathan was sitting on the couch, hunched over a book and a notebook. He was just wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants, the dim light shining on his scars. He had gained some weight, though he was still impossibly thin. He did not look like he was starving anymore, though.

He looked up and I was caught staring. "What are you doing up?"

"Drink." I mumbled, embarrassed. I walked into the kitchen and got a cup out of the cabinet, filling it up from the faucet and basically chugging it. I stood there for a couple minutes, trying to wake myself up long enough to not sound like an idiot.

I wandered back into the living room, Jonathan was sitting on the couch facing the kitchen. When I walked in, he patted the seat in front of him. "You're eloquent this morning."

"That's because it's two in the morning." I sat down, pulling my legs up to my chest. I then remembered I was wearing tiny sleep shorts so I crossed my legs instead. "If I'm ever eloquent at two in the morning, you'd better run. It usually means something was keeping me awake and that usually means I'm angry."

"I'll keep that in mind." The fact that he was shirtless was really messing with me. I couldn't keep my eyes from trailing down his thin chest. It wasn't sculpted, not really. But his abs were slightly defined and everything was just smooth. Except for his ribs, but they weren't as prominent as they used to be. I tried to keep my eyes from following the thin trail of hair from his belly button... God, when had I become such a freaking teenager?

"What are you doing up?" I had to keep myself occupied. Talking was good.

"Filling out forms for Gotham University."

I raised an eyebrow. "_Now?_"

"Yes, now. I've been busy with you and it needs to be in their offices by next week." He leaned over and ran a hand through his hair. I realized then he didn't have his glasses on. Without them, his eyes only stood out more.

Of course, I felt bad. "You didn't actually have to take care of me, you know." He had that look on his face, so I decided to clarify. "I'm really not your problem. I mean, I really appreciate what you've been doing for me, but you don't have to. I don't want you to feel like you have to."

He swallowed and looked down, and I could tell he was uncomfortable. "Listen, Dahlia. This whole... thing is new to me. Before you, not many even tried to get to know me, let alone let me into their world like you did." Jonathan frowned and sighed. "I want to take care of you. Always."

My heart almost stopped beating. It was way to early for this type of talk, I knew that, but at this point I really didn't care. This beautiful, strong, misunderstood boy was looking at me with those eyes and not a damn thing mattered anymore. Not the idiots that put me in the hospital, not the impending trip to Gotham. Nothing.

Completely ignoring his boundaries, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. I stayed still, waiting for him to push me off, but before I knew it he was pulling me into his lap. He pressed his lips harder against mine, causing me to sigh. I threaded my fingers through his hair, almost smiling at how soft it was.

Jonathan pulled back after a minute, both of our chests heaving. I grinned at him. "This is crazy, you know that?"

"Crazy is in the eye of the beholder." He smirked at me, his blue eyes dancing. He stole a glance at the clock. "It's three and we have class in the morning. We should probably sleep." He moved to untangle me but I was too comfortable to move. I leaned up and flipped the switch, bathing the room in darkness. "What are you doing?"

I smiled. "Well, I'm going to bed. Er, couch. Whatever. I'm too tired to move. So, you have two options, stay here with me or you can go sleep in my bed."

There was silence and I could almost see the cogs turning. "Move down."

I did as he said and we eventually got situated so I was laying in between his legs, my head on his bare chest. I snuggled down in further, yawning as he pulled the comforter around us. "G'night, Jonathan."

I felt his lips on my forehead. "Good night, Dahlia." I let his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Well, when I said to keep doors open, I didn't mean quite like this."<p>

I jumped and yelped, falling to the floor. I felt a stab of pain in my ribs and winced. I couldn't wait until that was gone. I heard the springs move in the couch as Jonathan sat up and I sat up also, glaring at my smiling mother. "What the hell, Mom?"

She laughed. "As cute as you were, you're gonna be late for school if you two don't get a move on."

I looked at the clock and choked. It was almost six, which meant I had about ten minutes to get ready. I got up and ran into the bathroom. I quickly did all the necessities, washed my face and brushed my teeth. I ran a comb through my hair before throwing it up in a messy bun. I pulled on the clothes I had set out the previous day, just a simple black shirt and a pair of ripped up jeans.

I went back into the living room to find Jonathan already dressed in one of the newer shirts my mom had gotten him. It was an early birthday gift, along with other clothes after my mother decided that his wardrobe needed updating. It was a casual black button down shirt with dark jeans. He had the sleeves rolled up because even in the end of November, it was warm. He brushed past me to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

I moved to the kitchen and sat at the table, grabbing a bagel off the plate that Mom had set out. She looked up from her cereal, the same smile on her face. I knew she was just itching to ask. "I woke up, he was awake, sat, talked, passed out. Does that meet your expectations?"

"As long as you're being safe, I don't care." Oh great, _this_ again. "You're going to be eighteen in a couple months and Jon is a great guy."

"I could definitely do worse." I rolled my eyes, taking a bite out of the bagel. "Quit acting like we're getting married, Mom."

"You never know, you might."

"Might what?" Jonathan came in, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Mom's trying to marry us already." I took another bite, chewing thoughtfully.

"I'm flattered, ma'am, but I think that we need to get through high school first." He sat down next to me and took a bagel for himself.

"Speaking of, Dahlia told me that you have forms you need to send in. Do you want me to send them when I'm on my way to town?"

He nodded. "If it's not too much trouble, thank you."

I stood and glanced at the clock. "We should probably be going if we want to get there on time."

I grabbed my keys and Jonathan grabbed my bag of make up work along with his. We waved to Mom as we left the apartment, side by side.

* * *

><p>Looking up at the school, I wasn't really so sure why I wanted to go back. Now that I'm here, I don't want to go anywhere near it.<p>

I was standing in the front with Jonathan, my hand securely in his. "Are you alright?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'm just... anxious."

"Don't be." He squeezed my hand. "No one is going to hurt you again, I can promise you that. Come one, we're going to be late."

He led me into the crowded hall until something strange happened. Where we usually had to fight to make our way through, our classmates parted like the sea as we made our way through. I felt stares heavy on my back and I noticed that quite a few of them were staring at our joined hands. Oh yeah, this must be news for them.

As we passed through, I heard many things. Murderer, fag, Scarecrow, whore. But they didn't do anything but make me keep my head higher and grip Jonathan's hand tighter. They weren't any better than us, and I wasn't going to let them beat me up anymore, literally or figuratively.

We reached my locker, still painted with _SCARECROW FUCKER_. You would really think that the faculty would do something about this. I sighed and quickly did the combination, smiling when Jonathan laid his hand on my lower back. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. We're fine." I quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek, aware of our audience of just about everyone in the school. "I'll see you at Psych."

My classes went by quick, even Psych. As far as I could tell, no one had bothered Jonathan, either. It was lunch and I was waiting on him to get back from his locker. I leaned against the door frame of the lunch room, examining my nails.

"You've got some nerve coming back here." I looked up and saw a girl I recognized. Well, I recognized her as being one of Sherry's friends, anyways. I just quirked an eyebrow. "Flaunting Scarecrow around. Sherry is dead because of you!"

"I didn't kill her, I was in the hospital, if you didn't hear." I'm sure she did. Most of the gossip came from them.

"You didn't, but your creepy-ass boyfriend did!"

This again? I just shut my eyes and counted to three. One... two.. fuck it. "Listen, I know you're upset about Sherry. Hell, I'm upset about Sherry and she treated me like shit. But please, just go away. I don't need you and your conspiracy theories to ruin my lunch."

That seemed to shock her. "What?"

"I just want to get through high school, alright? Preferably without another trip to the hospital or a mark on my permanent record. So, you and your friends stay away from Jonathan and I, and we won't have a problem. This is stupid."

"What's going on?" Jonathan came up behind the girl, his eyes narrowing. He brushed past her, coming to stand in front of me. "What do you want?"

"I was talking to your girlfriend, Scarecrow. This is between us."

I didn't see his face, but I could tell by the pure ice in his voice that he was not happy. "You are now talking to me, Lilly Carothers. It became my business as soon as your boyfriend helped send Dahlia to the hospital." He leaned down and Lilly backed up, her face suddenly nervous. "Run along now. Don't want you to miss any of the titillating gossip that is no doubt being spread at this very moment."

And she did run. She booked it into the lunch room and I raised my eyebrows, appreciatively. Jonathan had a gift. It was an unholy gift, but it was definitely a gift.

He turned to me, his face perfectly composed. "Are you alright?"

I shrugged. "I'm fine. You forget I managed before you."

"I do not forget, Dahlia." He had that look I can't identify on his face and I shook the creeping feeling away.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the lunch room. I spied Belinda and her friends sitting at the other side and was very, very tempted to walk by. However, she saw me before I could and waved, a smile on her face. I sighed when I felt Jonathan stiffen. "Please tell me you're not planning on sitting over there."

"Our table has been taken over." I pointed to the corner where we usually sat, where a couple of theater geeks were sitting. "Would you rather go discuss the Tony Awards with them?"

"Let's just go." We went and got our lunch of some weird mystery meat, soupy potatoes and thick gravy. I picked up bread and an apple, too, because I seriously doubt what I was watching jiggle around on my plate was edible.

We cautiously made our way over to Belinda's crowd, a couple of the people moving over to let us sit. "I'm so happy you decided to sit with us!" Belinda grinned. I couldn't help but smile back until I glanced over at Jonathan. He was stony-faced, eying every single person at the table like they may be a murderer. Which, to his credit, they may be. But just for that reason, it'd probably be a good thing to be nice. I'm not gonna be the girl who gets her head cut off because she was a bitch.

"I'm glad you invited us." I shot another glance at Jonathan. "So is he, even though he'll never say it out loud."

He shot me a dirty look while Belinda giggled. "I'm glad you're feeling better, D.G. Let me introduce you to everyone."

So she did. There were about four people not including herself. A boy to her right with shoulder-length black hair was her boyfriend, Owen. Sitting next to him was a blonde with heave eyeliner named Polly, though I'm guessing she probably would rather go by EvilMistressofDoom or something along those lines. On the other side of Belinda was Josh, a brunette with a cute smile and green eyes. The girl next to me introduced herself as Saralee, I was instantly jealous of her olive skin and almond shaped brown eyes.

They all seemed to be nice people, besides EvilMistressofDoom. She gave me a look like I was less to her than her gray matter lunch. However, she did not look at Jonathan the same way. The look she gave him basically told me she was planning to tie him up in her bed and never let him go. Great.

Jonathan hadn't even noticed. His eyes were focused on Owen who was talking about something from Psych class. He was watching him closely, like he was trying to decide whether getting into the conversation was worth the trouble.

Belinda had apparently said something awesome when I wasn't paying attention, because she was holding her hand up for a high five with a big grin on her face. I plastered a smile on mine and appeased her, flinching when leaning over the table made my ribs ache.

Of course, Jonathan had noticed that, he was basically on top of me in a second. He had his hands around my ribs, gently pressing. "Are you alright?"

I smiled at him and nodded. "Yeah, just shouldn't lean up like that, I guess."

"You're still injured?" Owen was watching me curiously, which drew the attention of everyone at the table. Fucking grand.

"She has cracked ribs. They take about six weeks to heal." Jonathan spoke for the first time (other than to me, of course).

Owen whistled under his breath. "I didn't realize those idiots did such a number on you."

"Yeah," EvilMistressofDoom chimed in. She was studying her black nails, trying to look apathetic. "She's probably faking."

I rolled my eyes. Boy, had I pegged her right. "Believe me, if I was faking it, I would put a little more feeling into it. At least enough where I could stay home for a few more days."

The blonde leaned forward, her eyes trained on Jonathan who ignored that fact that she even existed. "So, are you two, you know, together?"

I was about to tell EvilMistressofDoom where she could go but Jonathan beat me to it. "We are."

She looked a little put out, but not quite discouraged. Sorry, bitch, if you wanted Jonathan Crane you should have helped him when he needed it. Luckily for her, the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch.

I looked down at my uneaten food and sighed. A waste of money. Jonathan wasn't much better, all he had eaten was the apple he stole from me.

I slowly got up from the table, aware of Jonathan's keen eyes on me and grabbed my tray. I didn't get far before he was at my side. "Do you need to go home?"

I shook my head and pushed through the crowd to get to my locker. "We only have one class left before the end of the day. I think I can manage." I was being snappy and I instantly felt bad. I turned to him and noticed that his face was the mask again. "I'm sorry. I'm just wearing down. Do you think you can drive home today?"

"Sure. Just wait for me outside of your class, I don't want you walking too far without me."

I couldn't help but smile at him. He was pretty cute when he was worried.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So I felt a little better today and had a bit of inspiration. I felt like writing this out so I didn't see any reason to keep it from you guys with it sitting on my hard drive. There will be a couple week time jump between this chapter and the next to start getting into the main story line of Dal Niente. Thank you to everyone who has kept with it this far, I can't believe the positive responses I've been getting.**

**SladeRavenFan- Thank you! We haven't seen the end of Michael Henry yet, don't worry. Things are going to start heating up.**

**iwishtheskywasgreen- It was a really, really short chapter. I can't concentrate when I'm sick, so it was probably awful. But thanks for keeping with it. Crane works hard to keep D.G. happy, she's all he's got after all. =)**

**forgetmenotflowers- Thank you! We're both feeling much better today. I think D.G. does have her mature moments, but she's still a teenager, so she is pretty immature at times. I'm glad you like the moments between D.G. and Jonathan, there are plenty more coming up.**

**CD- Thank you! I loved it, too.**

**t0ki- I love getting your reviews, and I almost had a heart attack when you favorited me! The interactions between Jonathan and D.G. are really the most important part of Dal Niente, it sets the stage for rest of the series. I'm glad you like it, I work hard to try to make it seem as natural for them as possible. I hope you enjoy this one, too.**

**pourquoibella- Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one, too.**

**9aza- Michael's words are pretty important, so keep them in mind. I hope you like this update, too.**

**As usual, thanks for all the alerts and favorites, every single one gives me that much more drive. I can't believe we're on chapter nine now, almost to the double digits!**


	10. 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**10**

**Shallow Grave**

It was finally December 17th. Which means, it was finally time to go see Dad in Gotham.

My ribs had finally healed and I now showed no signs of my assault, which was amazing. I hadn't told Dad about it because, to be honest, I didn't want to hear him bitch for hours on end. The only evidence left was burrowed deep inside my skull, the lingering doubt over what happened that night when I was in the hospital. I kept it there because I wasn't ready to deal with it.

The phone ringing broke me out of my thoughts and I shut my suitcase, grabbing it. "Hell-o?"

"_Hey, sweetheart. You seem to be in a good mood today."_

I grinned at the sound of my dad's voice. "Of course I am. I finally get to come home, even if it is only for a few weeks."

"_Don't you let your mother hear you talk like that. That boy is coming with you, right?"_

"Dad, he has a name, it's Jonathan Crane." I sighed and sat down on my bed. "He's my boyfriend, Dad, get used to it."

"_It's highly irregular for a young lady to live with her boyfriend at such a young age."_

"Dad, save the lecture. You lived with Mom when you were sixteen, and you're currently living with your girlfriend. Don't be a hypocrite."

"_I just don't want you to make any mistakes."_

I ran a hand through my hair and rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't be human if I didn't make mistakes, Dad."

"_Alright, smart ass. Are you two planning on staying here or with your aunt?"_ I only smirked at the distaste in his voice. Like everyone with half a brain, he wasn't a fan of my mother's sister.

"Do you really have to ask? Of course we're staying with you. I promise, you'll love Jonathan. Mom does."

"_Your mother has a faulty sense of good character."_

"Oh, is that what happened when she married you?" I heard him huff and I giggled. "I swear, Dad, if you give him a hard time, I'll pop your girlfriend's implants."

"_Dahlia Grace!" _He was trying not to laugh. _"You're going to be the death of me, child."_

I shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "Nah, if anything, it will be that newspaper you run." My Dad was the current owner of Gotham News Register. It changed hands often, but it had flourished under his care. "We should be there around nine if we leave in a half an hour."

"_Right, well, just come on in when you do get here. I'm sure we'll still be awake, but you know where the spare key is." _Well, duh. I only lived in that townhouse for seventeen years. _"But I'll let you go. I'll see you when you get here. I love you, D.G., be careful."_

I hung up and looked at the doorway, blinking when I saw Jonathan there. "I mean what I said about the bell, you know."

He rolled those brilliant blue eyes of his. "I just came in to see if you're ready. It takes approximately twelve hours to reach Gotham."

"I know that, I've driven it before." I stood and moved to grab my suitcase, not at all surprised when Jonathan beat me to it. I think he's just gotten into the habit of being my personal butler. "Are you packed?"

"All of my bags are in the car. When is your mom coming up?"

We walked out into the living room and I made sure everything was turned off. "She's leaving tomorrow. She couldn't get today off." I shrugged on my jacket and followed him outside. "Are you driving first or me?"

"I should probably drive first, that way you can be the one driving when we're in Gotham." Right, that makes sense. I was surprised to know that Jonathan had gotten his license. Without his grandmother's knowledge, of course.

He climbed into the driver's seat and started the Charger, smirking at me when I looked at all the bags in the back seat. "How many of those are books?"

He pulled out of the parking lot. "Not all of them. Look in the brown bag."

I found the brown paper bag and pulled it out. Inside was a box from Downtown Bakery, my favorite Bakery this side of the Mason-Dixon line. I looked inside and almost squealed. Blueberry scones, muffins, and pumpkin donuts. I smiled happily and leaned over, kissing his smooth cheek. "Thank you."

We were at a red light so he turned his head and caught my lips with his briefly. He also took a donut out of the box and smirked when I gave him a slight glare.

I leaned back in the seat and took a bite out of the a scone, smiling as the Georgia scenery went by. In a few hours I would be home with the most important people in my life. Things were finally starting to look up.

* * *

><p>It was about three hours into the trip and my legs were already cramping. I stretched and yawned. I forgot how much this drive sucked and why the hell did I pick a car with leather seats? Talk about uncomfortable.<p>

Most of the drive had been spent in silence, unlike me Jonathan liked quiet when he was driving so he could concentrate. When I was driving, I needed as much noise as possible. Even if I was alone, I'd end up talking to myself or turn the radio up full blast. The radio was on now but it was low, almost like a background hum.

"Are you excited to get out of Georgia?" My own voice surprised me, breaking the silence like glass.

Jonathan spared me a glance and nodded. "Yes, I am."

I bit my lip. "What do you think it will be like?" Hopefully he got the message.

"What?" Of course not. As smart as Jonathan Crane was, he was painfully inexperienced in the social aspect of life.

"Us."

Now he really looked at me, both eyebrows raised. "Where is this coming from?"

I shrugged and settled back into the seat. "I don't know. I know we've only been together for like a month, but I can't help but think of when you leave."

The bastard actually smirked at me. "What, is Dahlia Cohen afraid of losing the Scarecrow?"

I punched him in the shoulder, making him chuckle. "Shut up, I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

"Nothing is going to happen, D.G. Do you think I'm stupid? You're mine, I'm not going to let you go."

I wasn't sure if that should scare me or not.

* * *

><p>It was almost nine-thirty by time we finally reached Gotham. The boring drive took even longer after we hit a bunch of traffic on the interstate going into Gotham. I had read the sign, "Hostage Situation in Progress". Jonathan hadn't known what to do, I just shrugged. That was tame compared to what this city was used to.<p>

I tried to keep myself from staring out the window as we passed the heart of the city, Wayne Towers. Everything looked exactly like it had when I left it. It was snowing lightly, already an inch or two where the city workers hadn't cleaned. The snow actually made the city seem a little cleaner, but I knew that beneath the snow laid blood stains.

I stole a glance at Jonathan, a smirk gracing my face when I saw the open awe. Gotham was an amazing city, full of skyscrapers as far as the eye could see and then some. It was on the water so it had great boating business.

The Falcone family, one of the most influential (and corrupt) families ran the biggest shipping business in the coast. The corruption had a lot to do with both the prosperity and the size of their business.

Gotham was a dirty, corrupt city but to the true Gothamites, it was home. We did our best to clean up the city, but with more and more people turning to the dark side every day, it was almost a fruitless endeavor.

"What do you think?"

My voice broke Jonathan of his thoughts, he twitched a little . He turned to look at me, a small smile on his face. "Much better than Atlanta."

"You're telling me. We're almost home." I pulled onto a side street and went a few blocks, away from the chaos and into a quieter neighborhood. A parking garage sat across the street from my father's condo, one you had to get into with a keycard. Luckily I still had mine, so I swiped it across the screen and the door raised, letting us in. "I bet the cunt stole my parking spot."

"Your father's girlfriend?"

I nodded but was pleasantly surprised that my spot was empty next to my father's convertible. "Score!" It was only a couple floors up, so it wasn't a far walk. I pulled in and shut the Charger off, immediately jumping out excitedly.

Jonathan followed, at a much slower pace. I started walking away. "Shouldn't we get the bags?"

"We'll get them!" I waved him off. "I want to see my dad!"

I basically ran across the street, leaving Jonathan to jog after me. They were awake, the condo lit up invitingly. I reached the door and tried it, opening it and letting us in. "Dad!"

My voice echoed off the high ceilings, but there was no answer. Weird. I took off my shoes and glanced around. Everything was how we left it.

The cream walls, the dark wood flooring. It still smelled like cinnamon, my father's favorite candle. The light fixtures were still the same, the gothic steel offsetting the otherwise light decorations. He hadn't even changed the furniture. I was definitely home and it felt amazing..

"Dad! We're here!" I motioned for Jonathan to follow as I walked into the kitchen. Everything in the kitchen was the same, too. I was so excited, I hardly even noticed Jonathan hesitate at the door.

"Dah-"

"Dad! We-" I screeched as I slid and fell on something sticky. Who the hell spilled something and didn't clean it? I brought my hand to my face and saw red. I screamed and Jonathan quickly moved in, helping me get up. "Is tha-"

"Yes, that's blood."

I looked down, I was covered in it. It was staining my light jeans, soaking into my socks. I tried to suppress the nausea and almost failed, gagging. Jonathan looked around the counter and his face went serious. "Dahlia, go call the police."

"What is it?"

"Dahlia Grace, go ca-"

I caught a look at what was behind the counter and couldn't help the horrible scream that bubbled up from my throat. I turned to the side and vomited, falling to the floor.

My father was on his side, laying in a pool of his own blood. I watched as Jonathan carefully checked for a pulse before closing his eyes.

"He's..."

"Yes."

I couldn't stop the sobs welling up in me. "Oh my god, oh my god.." The tears came before I could stop them and I curled into myself. I heard footsteps and Jonathan was crouching next to me.

"Dahlia, I've got to call the police. I'll be right back, okay?"

"No!" I clung to him, my bloody fists curling into his jacket. I buried my face into his chest. "Please, please don't leave me!"

"Shh.. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to get the phone. You can see me, alright? I will never leave your sight." I nodded shakily and he stood and walked to the other side of the room, gingerly stepping over my father's corpse.

My father's corpse. My father is dead. I burst into tears again, putting my head in between my knees where I didn't have to see him.

"Dahlia!" I jumped and looked up, seeing Jonathan kneel in front of me. I was now in the sitting room on the floor, my back against the couch. When had I gotten here?

Jonathan's eyes bored into mine. "The police are here. They need to ask you a few questions. I'll be with you the entire time."

"Okay." I swallowed, my voice sounding weak even to me.

A man walked in, dark hair with a thick mustache. He had kind eyes surrounded in laugh lines and the look on his face was pure sympathy. He walked over and I noticed Jonathan waving him into a chair. I almost smiled. Leave it to Jonathan to keep everything under control while I'm falling to pieces.

"Ms. Cohen? I don't know if you remember me, but my name is James Gordon. Call me Jim. I was a friend of your father's."

I did remember him. He was one of the higher ups in the police department. Not the commissioner, but close to it. He frequented my father's parties when he wasn't working. "Of course, Jim. Dad always spoke highly of you."

He gave me a sad smile. "Your father was a good man, and you have my very deepest sympathies. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Go ahead."

"Alright then." He cast a look over to Jonathan, like he had just noticed him. "Who is this?"

Jonathan stuck out his hand, all southern charm even in the worse instances. "My name is Jonathan Crane, sir. I'm Dahlia's boyfriend."

"You are visiting with Dahlia?"

"Yes, sir. I'm from Georgia." Jonathan nodded. "I'm coming back to Gotham in the spring for university."Jonathan pulled me to him and I leaned my head on his chest, trying to ignore the chaos around me.

Jim nodded. "Alright, Ms. Cohen. Did you see anyone here when you came in?"

"No."

"Was there anyone new in your father's life?"

"No." I started to shake my head but realization struck me like a Peterbilt. "Wait, yeah. His new girlfriend. The home wrecker."

"The home wrecker?" The man leaned over, interested.

"Dad cheated on Mom with my teacher. Kara Taylor is her name." Jim called another cop and said something into his ear and I saw the other man pull out a his radio, walking away quickly. "She was supposed to be here with him. I thought it was weird when she wasn't parked in my space."

"How long had they been together?" He was scratching away in a notepad

"About a year or so. I don't know how long they were together before my mom caught them, though."

"Do you think she would have a motive for killing your father?"

I shrugged but wasn't surprised when Jonathan piped in. "Money."

Jim gave him a weird look and I felt the need to explain. "Jonathan is going to be studying psychology in January. He's already really... good at it."

"There was a single shot to the head, it was a business transaction. If it had been a crime of passion, more damage would have been done. He might have broken up with her or mentioned something about Dahlia's inheritance. If you look in his accounts, I wouldn't be surprised if more than one of them have been drained." Jonathan spoke very matter of fact, almost clinically. It hurt, this was my _father_ he was talking about, but I knew he meant well.

"You are good." Gordon looked impressed. "We'll check everything out. Do you two have somewhere to stay? I can't imagine you would want to stay here, we'll be in and out all night."

"We'll go to a hotel or something." I frowned at the ground. "I guess it was a good thing that we didn't unpack."

"I'll call and reserve you a room at the Ritz, if that's alright with you. Probably the safest place for you right now. How long are you staying in Gotham?"

"We're leaving January 2nd to head back to Atlanta."

He stood. "Well, I'm gonna report this and have someone book that room for you. I promise I'll let you know anything we find out as soon as we can, okay? We'll find whoever did this."

I nodded. I was exhausted and probably in shock. My father was in a body bag in the back of an ambulance. This was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from and the only thing grounding me was the beautiful boy next to me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter 10! We're in the double digits! So, it's 10:20 PM here and my son gets up anywhere between 5 and 6 and I'm still up writing. That's how much I adore you guys. **

**The next couple chapters will be their time in Gotham, which I plan on having a lot of fun with.**

**9aza- Thank you, I like her to. She's based off a friend of mine's mom, and she's pretty awesome. I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**t0ki- I'm glad you liked it! I'm planning on actually continuing the series up until Dark Knight, possibly up into the new movie (if it's decent and/or Crane makes an entrance, which I'm really hoping for). Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one.**

**Anon- Thank you!**

**forgetmenotflowers- Thank you! I hope you like this one!**

**CD- I plan on continuing this up until Dark Knight at the very least. I don't know how much of their college experience I'll show though. Thanks for reading!**

**iwishtheskywasgreen- Thank you! I try to write as quickly as I can, I won't let myself procrastinate to a month, if I did I would never finish it. Everything will be revealed in time. I hope you like this one, too.**

**SladeRavenFan- Thank you! D.G.'s mom is based off a friend's mom. My friend's mom is pretty cavalier about everything. She has to be pretty cool, she raised D.G., right? Haha Thanks for reading!**

**I should probably update that awful summary, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Oh, and I was under heavy influence of The Birthday Massacre while writing this chapter... so if it's off, you know why. As always, thank you for the reviews and everything! I'm still having a hard time believing what a good reception this has had, you guys are great.**


	11. 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**11**

**Welcome Home**

My father is dead.

My father is dead.

My father is dead.

No matter how many times I repeat it, it won't register as real in my mind. It's like there's this big gaping hole where my heart should be, almost as if it was ripped out and placed on the gurney along with his body.

I was sitting on the cold tile floor of our bathroom, with my bare back resting against the glass of the shower door. My bloody clothes were also on the floor, the red fabric on the white tile a grotesque reminder of what my brain would not comprehend.

My father is dead.

It just would not compute. All that blood... I felt tears well into my eyes and I blinked them back. Alright, so I knew he was dead. I would never see him smile, laugh again. He would never kiss my forehead, pick me up, or make me mouse-shaped pancakes again. No more hugs, no walks in the park.

Damn it, the tears were back.

A knock on the door had me brushing my tears back and I didn't bother to answer, knowing that Jonathan would come in anyways. He did, of course, and almost turned back around when he saw my state. His face turned red and he looked away. "Dahlia, you're supposed to be showering."

I shrugged. "I know."

"Your mother is waiting for you to call her."

"I know."

"The police are also waiting to talk to you again."

"I don't care."

"You're going to catch a cold."

"That's funny!" I started laughing, almost coldly. "You really think that I care about getting a fucking cold? My dad is dead, Jonathan."

"How is sitting on the floor in the nude going to help anything?" This time he did look at me, his blue eyes narrowing. "Get in the shower and collect yourself."

"Fuck you." I laughed again. "If my nudity offends you, Jonathan Crane, you know exactly where the door is."

"Dahlia Grace." Jonathan's voice showed the pure frustration that was starting to show through on his face. He tossed his glasses on the counter and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Please, just get in the shower."

"No." Was I being ridiculous? Absolutely. But arguing with Jonathan gave me something else to concentrate on, gave me some semblance of control back. "Just leave me alone. I'll get one when I'm ready."

"Fine." The look on his face was pure ice and he turned to go. Well, at least I thought he was. Jonathan pulled the shirt over his head and quickly divested himself of his jeans. When he was only in his boxers, he advanced on me.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jonathan had me up and quickly pushed me into the shower, closing the door behind him. He reached around me and turned on the water.

I squeaked as the cold water hit me and I tried to book it, but Jonathan had be pinned against the wall of the shower. I was acutely aware of his bare chest against mine and everything else. The only thing that separated our bodies were his boxers which were quickly becoming soaked through. He leaned forwards, his face only centimeters from mine. "You need to wake up. Your father is dead, yes, but you are stronger than this." I tried to turn my face away from him but he caught it between his hands. "Wake up, Dahlia. If you don't take care of yourself, you force me to do it for you."

I glared at him, the running water making me squint. "Why does it matter so much?"

His eyes were dark and they burned straight through me. "Because I care for you, you moron."

My heart, suddenly reappearing, started a frantic beating and I swallowed. Jonathan really was beautiful, even more so with his hair dripping and his eyes blazing. His face was sculpted to perfection and I really don't understand how anyone at the school looked down on him for anything.

Deciding quickly, I reached up and brought his mouth to mine. He pushed up even harder against me, my body molding completely to his. He bit my lip and I moaned lightly, granting him entrance.

* * *

><p>We were in bed, panting. He was holding me, my head on his chest. I couldn't help but laugh a little. "I can't believe that just happened."<p>

"You?" Jonathan met my eyes, his eyes light and happy. "I basically took advantage of you."

"Please." I scoffed. "If anyone took advantage, it was me. I basically just used you to make myself feel better."

He chuckled and pulled me closer. "Well, if it counts, I enjoyed it."

"Was this your-?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Me too. Despite Jason Schwartz's best efforts."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at me. "Jason Schwartz?"

I sighed. "A kid I dated last year. We went on like, three dates, if that. He got pissed that I wouldn't 'put out.'" I used my fingers and air quotes. "He spent the rest of the year tarnishing my reputation and trying to get into my pants."

"Sounds counter-productive."

"You have no idea."

We were quiet for a minute, the only sounds our breaths and a couple arguing next door. "Do you regret it?" There was a quiet worry in Jonathan's voice that had me sitting up. I turned to him, clutching the sheet to myself.

"What? No! Why would you even ask that?"

Jonathan sat up also. "Your dad just died."

"Thanks for bringing that back up, but yes, I know."

"I just-"

"Jonathan, I promise, I'm of sound mind. I will _never_ regret sleeping with you. In the literal or figurative sense. I wouldn't have started it if I hadn't been sure."

His eyes trained on the bed. "I apologize, I don't know what got into me."

I rolled my eyes and pounced on him, making him give a yelp. "I'm not like the other girls, you should have realized that by now."

He smirked up at me, fire back in his eyes. "Oh, I know. But before we start this again, you need to call your mother."

I pulled away and sighed. "Back to the real world now?"

"Are you okay?"

"I will be. I know Dad is dead... but thank you for letting me escape that for a little while."

He reached over and pulled me to him again, kissing my forehead. "I'll always be here."

The phone rang on the desk, making us both jump. I groaned and reached over, grabbing it. "Hello?"

"_Ms. Cohen? We have your mother on the line for you."_

"Alright." I guess she was impatient. There was a beep and I could hear my mother panicking. "Hey, Mom."

"_Dahlia Grace Cohen! I've been trying to reach you for HOURS! I've been worried sick!"_

"I know Mom, I just had a long shower. Trying to think."

"_Oh, baby. Are you alright? Is Jonathan okay?"_

"We're both alright, Mom." I noticed the bed shift an Jonathan got up, grabbing some clothes out of his suitcase before pulling them on. "He hasn't left my side all night."

"_I'm sorry to call so early, but after I talked to Jon, I just needed to hear your voice."_

I smiled sadly. "It's okay, Mom. I haven't been to sleep yet anyways. When are you coming up?"

"_I was just waiting to talk to you before I made my way to the airport. Do you still want to pick me up or do you want me to call your aunt?"_

"No, Mom, we can come get you. We have to wait on the cops to figure out what the hell is going on anyways."

"_Baby, I'm so sorry. I can't believe it."_

I felt the tears making their return and I swallowed back a sob. "Me neither, Mom." My voice cracked and I sniffled. "I just hope they find the bitch."

"_They will, hun. Jon told me that Gordon is on the case, there's no way he'll let her get away with this."_

There was a knock on the door and Jonathan went to answer it, the door opening revealing a cop. "I've got to go, Mom. The police are here. What time does your flight come in?" Jonathan walked outside with the officer, shutting the door behind him.

"_Nine A.M. I'll be at gate C7. I love you baby, be careful and be nice to the police."_

I smiled as we hung up. I threw on some clothes and looked at the clock, it was only a little after five in the morning. I walked outside, nodding to the officer. "Is there any news?"

The dark man nodded. "We think we've got her. A traffic stop outside of Gotham caught her car. We just need you to identify her."

"Okay." My heart hammered in my chest and I felt Jonathan grab my hand, squeezing it. "Can we drive down?"

* * *

><p>The drive down to GCPD was quiet. Jonathan was behind the wheel, his other hand on my leg. It was a small but comforting gesture and something I really needed to keep me from falling to pieces. I really hadn't thought they would have found the murderer already, but the officer said we had basically just missed them.<p>

A few minutes sooner... and my dad would be alive. We would be sitting in front of the tree with pumpkin rolls and he'd be making me play the violin for him.

I closed my eyes to keep my cool and Jonathan's hand squeezed my leg, bringing me back to reality. I took a glance at the clock. It was almost six now. "We're here."

I look up at the impressive building, all towers and columns. It definitely fit Gotham, it was imposing and almost an eyesore. It was an all white building, it's surprising that the sheer force of all the corruption in one space hadn't stained the exterior black.

We followed Officer Douglas's car into a small parking lot, pulling in behind him. I took a deep breath to try and calm my nerves before stepping out. Jonathan's larger hand immediately met my smaller one and I couldn't help but give him a small smile. Without him, I'd probably still be on the floor crying in the puddle of blood.

Officer Douglas led us into a small reception area where James Gordon was waiting for us. He looked as tired as I felt, the bags weighing heavily under his eyes. "Ms. Cohen, Mr. Crane."

"It's D.G., please." I yawned and tried to stifle it. It had been a long night and day. After we picked Mom up, I'm going back to that overly expensive hotel with the ugly green carpet and drapes and I'm passing out.

He nodded. "We just need you to take a look at our suspect and let us know if it's her. She was driving the correct car. After this, you can go back and get some rest."

"Thank you, Jim."

We followed him through the winding hallways, past the holding cells where drunks and prostitutes slept, the sober ones glaring at us. I tried to keep my eyes faced forward, but it was hard not to look around. I saw pictures of crime scenes and other things, they made my stomach churn.

We finally reached a small room with one of those see through mirrors. Gordon waves us forward and I break away from Jonathan who hangs back. I walk up to the glass and stare at the woman on the other side.

She was a junkie. Her arms were tracked up and her brunette hair was stringy, almost balding in some places. She was biting her nails until they bled, constantly shaking. She was skeletal, her baggy clothes hanging on her like a cheap mannequin. Her bloodshot blue eyes darted back and forth between the mirror and the door. This woman was a wreck.

But it wasn't my father's murderer. This woman didn't even look like she could hold the weight of the gun, let alone keep it straight enough to get a headshot in. I sighed and turned away.

"It's not her."

Jim looked disappointed. The poor man was probably running on less sleep than I was. He was probably hoping for an open and shut case. "Are you sure?"

I took another long look. There was some resemblance between Kara Taylor and her, but not even years of heroin could have created the differences. "I'm sure. I'm sorry, Jim."

"Don't be." He shook his head. "Every little thing helps. I'm the one that should be sorry for dragging you down here and giving you false hope."

"I think we all need sleep." Jonathan stepped forward. "I know you're not supposed to give confidential information, but have you checked Mr. Cohen's accounts?"

Gordon seemed to decide whether it was okay before sighing. "We did. She drained his two main bank accounts, so you were right. His lawyer, Sobeleski, is cooperating with us a great deal. So far it doesn't look like she's taken anything else of value."

Besides my father's life. Jonathan gave me a look that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. "Thank you, Mr. Gordon. I know this is strange, but don't give up looking. I believe she is still in the area. Her type tends to not stray far from home."

"When do you start school, boy?"

"January 17th, sir. I'm going to major in Psychology and minor in Pharmacology." There was pride in Jonathan's voice and I shook my head. Some things never change.

"Maybe we'll end up working together then." He sighed heavily. "You two had better get back. If anything else happens, I will let you know."

When we left Gordon, I slipped my hand back into Jonathan's. He leaned close to me as we followed another nameless officer through the halls. "Do you want to go sleep for a few hours or go get something to eat?"

I shrugged. "Let's go get something to eat. There's no use in going back now."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That's it for tonight! The next one won't be for another couple of days, but it will be up on Sunday at the latest. Thank you for all the amazing reviews and favorites, I don't have the time to respond individually right now. But thank you all and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too!**


	12. 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

**12**

**The Pretender**

To say that my mother was happy to see me would be an understatement. Once she got a hold of me in the crowded airport, she held on and didn't seem to want to let go. Tears streamed down her already blotchy face and she sobbed into my shoulder, making me tear up as well.

When she noticed Jonathan standing awkwardly to the side, even he wasn't spared. She grabbed his jacket and brought him into the hug, making his face color. I almost laughed but I felt a sob bubble into my chest and I bit it back. I have cried enough for about ten people within the past twenty four hours.

Mom finally let us go, wiping her eyes. "I'm so glad you're both alright! You have no idea how worried I've been!" She looked over us both, her eyes settling on me. "You look awful, Dahlia."

"Gee, thanks Mom. It's not every day that you find your father's corpse on the kitchen floor." My voice broke and I felt Jonathan move closer to me, his hand settling on my lower back. I felt a little better. "We haven't slept yet. The police thought they caught the bitch, but she gave the car to a junkie."

Mom frowned, worry blanketing her face. "Where are you staying?"

We started walking back to the parking lot. "The Ritz right now. I don't know where after that... I don't know if I can go back there, Mom."

She sighed and wrapped her arm around me again, falling into step beside me. "I know, baby. You don't have to go back if you don't want to." I noticed Jonathan purse his lips out of the corner of my eye but he showed no other emotion. "Baby, you two just drop me off. You both look dead on your feet, so you go back and get some sleep. You can visit tomorrow."

We reached the Charger and I climbed into the back, ignoring Jonathan's curious stare. I just needed some solitude to think.

After dropping my mom off at my Aunt's, we sped back through the streets of my city. The snow was falling heavily, giving the city a gray tone even in the daylight. I leaned my head against the window, the cool temperature helping ward off the inevitable headache that usually came with staying up for so long.

Jonathan placed his hand over mine in my lap, making me turn my eyes to him. He stared determinedly out the window, navigating the streets of Gotham was difficult even for me and I had grown up here. He cast a look at me. "Are you feeling alright?"

I shrugged weakly. "I think I'm just tired. Between that and crying so much, I just feel awful."

He squeezed my hand gently. "I know. We'll be at the hotel in a couple minutes and then we can both get some sleep." He merged into the lane that led to the hotel. "You know, if you feel like talking-"

"Thank you." I shut him out, which wasn't an easy thing to do to Jonathan Crane. "I just feel... numb right now. That's the way I want to keep it."

"You are going to have to deal with it at some point.

"Will you quit playing shrink with me?" I groaned and ran a hand through my messy hair. "I know I will... I just don't want to."

"That's completely normal, Dahlia. You've gone through a lot these past couple months. You need to deal with it before it builds up and causes more stress on you." I stayed quiet, letting my silence do the talking. "And I think that going back to your father's house would be beneficial to you."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I just stared at him with wide eyes.

"No."

My stare turned into a full on D.G. Cohen DeathGlare (patent pending). "Well, I'm glad you're not my parent, then. Because nothing on this fucking planet is getting me back into that house."

"Language, Dahlia." He pulled up to the hotel, looking for a parking spot. "You need to face your fears. You can't not go back because your father died there. Thousands of people die everyday, it's the natural end to a life cycle. There's no need to fear a place because it is associated with death."

He pulled into the parking spot and I basically threw myself out into the cold. "There was nothing fucking natural about my father's death." I didn't even bother to hide the tears that were making a course down my face. I was hurt that he would just write my dad's death off like it was nothing. But then again, I guess to him it was nothing. "Just leave me alone, Crane."

I ran into the hotel, not bothering to look back. I ran past the clerk and went straight to the elevator. I pressed it hurriedly, I really didn't want to be bothered by anyone, including my boyfriend. The elevator finally dinged and I pushed my way through the crowd to get inside.

I hit the closer door button, ignoring the calls to hold the elevator and sighed in relief as the door slid closed. However, my relief was only temporary, as a pale hand grabbed the door and I rolled my eyes.

Jonathan slid into the elevator, giving me a glare. "Is this really the thanks I get for trying to help you?"

"You really don't care that my father is dead."

His blue eyes were icy as they bore through me. "Of course I do. I, however, am strong enough to be calm when someone I care about needs me."

I groaned and leaned my back against the metal wall. "I just need sleep, alright? I'm sorry, maybe I won't be such a bitch after about a year of sleep."

"I know." Jonathan's face softened and he let out a sigh as the elevator dinged on our floor. "Let's go to bed, we'll discuss this further whenever we wake up." He grabbed my hand and led me down the hall, before sliding the key card and opening the door. At least he got it on the first try, it took me about five before I got it right. He ushered me in and shut the door behind him, sliding the chain into place.

I wandered over to the bed, kicking my shoes off. I just collapsed face-down to the mattress, groaning when my entire body ached. I heard shuffling behind me before I felt my socks being pulled off. I ignored it until I felt the spindly fingers encircling my waist. My head shot up as I felt his long fingers undo the button to my jeans. "What are you doing?"

"It's not hygienic to sleep in your day clothes." He pulled on my pants and I acquiesced, moving my hips so Jonathan could get them off. I sat up then, fixing a stare on him.

"I'm not really in the mood." And yet I let him pull my shirt off and I watched as he did the same.

"Please, I'm not after coitus." _Coitus?_ _Who the hell says coitus?_ Oh, that's right. My boyfriend. "Skin to skin contact is very beneficial for humans. Mothers have been known to bring infants back to life by laying the child on their chest. Skin contact can also relieve stress if it is with someone you love."

My heart stopped beating. I looked up at Jonathan but he was working on his belt. He made quick work his pants and socks and I was enraptured yet again by the dull light on his scars. He finally looked up at me. His bright eyes stood out without his glasses, enhanced by his high cheek bones and pale skin. I saw that emotion again and I felt my throat swell.

He moved so that he was laying on the bed facing me. I just sat there, probably looking like an idiot in my bra and underwear. He raised a thin eyebrow. "Are you going to lay down or are you planning on sleeping in that position?"

I rolled my eyes and did as he asked, but made sure that my back was to him. I didn't expect him to grab me and pull him against his back. As his arm wrapped around me, I literally felt the tension drain from my body. As my body finally started to relax, I couldn't help but think how right it felt to be in Jonathan Crane's arms.

* * *

><p>There was ringing. Really loud, annoying ringing. I tried to ignore it, I really did. It just wouldn't stop. I pulled the pillow over my head and almost screamed when it continued.<p>

I felt the bed shift as Jonathan reached over, picking it up. "What?" Even after the lack of sleep, his voice was crystal clear, although his tone was less than pleasant. "Let me ask." The pillow was lifted off my head. "Do you know a Victor Sobeleski?"

I perked up, the name striking a chord within my sleep-deprived mind. "That's Dad's lawyer. Er, was."

Jonathan ignored my correction. "Send him up, then." He put the phone down on the cradle and squinted at the clock. We had gone to bed around eleven, and it was now a little after five. Six hours, we definitely could have slept longer. At least, I could have. Jonathan grabbed his glasses and slid them on before turning his head to me. "We need to get dressed. We can sleep more once the lawyer leaves."

I nodded and slowly got out of the comfortable bed, wincing when my feet his the rough hotel carpet. "Alright, I want to go back to bed already."

"I don't think it will be long, D.G." Of course, being the overachiever he is, Jonathan already had a pair of jeans on and was pulling on a sweater. As he pulled the fabric over his stomach, he made his way over to me and pulled me into a small kiss. "He won't want me in here, so I'll wait out in the hall. If you need me, just yell."

"Alright." I stood and walked over to my suitcase, pulling out a random shirt and a pair of clean jeans. I pulled them on quickly as a knock resounded at the door. Jonathan checked to make sure I was dressed, ever the protective one, before answering it.

On the other side was a man around my father's age. He was thin and balding, a horseshoe of salt and pepper hair on his scalp. Small glasses were perched on his crooked nose and when he saw me, his face broke into a kind smile. He was wearing a sharp and expensive suit, an unnecessary show of wealth, given that his current client was staying at the Ritz. "Dahlia! You're all grown!"

"Hello, Victor." I remembered him well. He was one of my dad's most trusted friends, even more so since he was his lawyer and financial assistant. "It's been a long time."

Victor walked in, taking in the mess that was our room. "Yes, dear, I'm sorry for your loss. Your father was a great man, but you know that already. Who is this?"

Oh, he meant Jonathan. "Victor, this is Jonathan Crane, my boyfriend. Jonathan, Victor Sobeleski, my father's lawyer and best friend."

"You flatter me, D.G." He turned to Jonathan. "Do you mind if I call you Jon? Of course not." Judging by the look on my boyfriend's face, he did mind but the lawyer went on anyways. "I need to speak to Dahlia privately, so if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course." Jonathan nodded at the older man before turning to me, his eyes sending me a message. _If you need me..._ He made his exit, shutting the door behind him.

"Seems like a nice boy." Victor moved to the table, setting his briefcase on top.

I smiled sadly. "He is. He's been a big help."

"Did your father ever meet him?"

"No." I shook my head. "Yesterday would have been the first time."

He tutted, a sad tone to his voice. "Your father would have loved him, I have no doubt. He seems like quite the gentleman." He cleared his throat. "Now, I hate to do this now, but I'm afraid I'm not here for a social call. I have with me your father's last will and testament."

He motioned for me to sit and I did. He sat as well, pulling out a few pieces of paper. "Shouldn't his other family be here?" I was curious, I knew that Dad didn't associate with them much, but I thought that this was how the process went.

"Everyone that is needed is here. Now, I need to say that you are your father's last living kin, as far as he was concerned. I know that you are young and probably don't remember, but your father had a falling out with his family not long after you were born."

Now my interest was really piqued. "Really? Why?"

The man sighed and wiped his forehead. "I'm not sure of the details, all I know is that they didn't approve of you or your mother. Your father came from a very wealthy and influential family, Dahlia. They believed in business arrangements, not love."

"So, Cohen..?"

"Your father decided to take the Cohen name after his father disowned him. It let him build his own empire without his biological family's influence. Your father was very good in judging trends with stocks and such, and he built up a small fortune. Then he got his hands on the Gotham News Register and, as you know, it is better today than it was when it was first written. Your father had quite the knack for business."

The fact that he was talking about my father in past tense made it all the more real. Denial wasn't something I could do anymore, Jonathan was right. I had to face this head on. "So, his family?"

"Are you sure you want to know, Dahlia? This knowledge won't give you anything but pain."

I swallowed but nodded. "Yeah, I think I can deal. I'm not going to do anything with this knowledge, I promise."

Victor seemed to debate it before he sighed. "I guess it's best that you know, that way you can be prepared if needed. Dahlia, your father was born Anton Falcone, the younger brother of Carmine Falcone."

"You're kidding." My brows knit together and I knew by the look on his face that Victor Sobeleski was not kidding. The Falcone family was one of the biggest crime families in Gotham, on par with the Maroni family. They were known for their ruthless behavior, not caring if it was family or friend or foe that got gunned down. How could my kind father be cut out of the same cloth as those people? "Does my mother know?"

He shook his head. "No. Your father invented David Cohen on a whim when he met your mother, he didn't want to be involved in the family business to begin with and meeting your mother only cemented it. Despite his indiscretion and the divorce, your father loved your mother. But sometimes, genetics win out."

I felt sick to my stomach. Dahlia Grace Falcone? That sounded just... wrong. "But Dad wasn't exactly a private person, Victor. How did he not end up dead? You don't exactly cross the Falcone family and live to talk about it."

Scratching his head, Victor shrugged. "To be honest, I have no idea. I know that your grandfather, Vincent Falcone, loved his family, and your father was the baby of the family. Maybe that was why he was able to leave without having a hit put on his head."

"Do they know about...?"

"About you?" He chuckled, a mirthless sound. "I'm sure they do. Nothing passes the Falcone family's attention, Dahlia. I'm sure your father's death won't pass, either. However, I don't know what they will do with that knowledge."

I sat still for a minute, just talking it all in. I was related to the Falcone family. Fuck. Somehow I felt that they weren't going to let the death of David Co- er, Anton Falcone pass lightly. "So, is this all going to come out since he's dead? Like, a big scandal?"

"Oh no, dear. Your father was cunning, I guess that was the Falcone in him. He had all the proper documents forged, and they were done well. No one will ever know that David Cohen was born Anton Falcone, unless you or the Falcone family wish it."

I breathed a sigh and leaned back against the chair. "Does anyone in this town not have secrets?" Victor gave me a look. "Don't answer that- I don't want my optimism to be dashed."

"Now you know who your father really was, but who he was born doesn't mean much, Dahlia. He took the name David Cohen when he was sixteen and he never looked back." He shuffled the papers, getting my attention again. "Now, the reason I came. Like I said, I have your father's will, and to be frank, everything that the awful woman didn't take is yours. Well, what she did take is yours, too, but we'll probably never see it."

"He didn't leave anything to anyone else?" My throat went dry.

"No. The paper, the townhouse, the vehicles, the investments, it's all yours. He left behind a small fortune, Dahlia." He turned the papers so that they faced me and showed me the dollar sign.

"Oh my god." I felt faint. My head was spinning, the past couple days have been too much. "I had no idea."

"I don't think anyone did, except for David. I wasn't joking when I said he was a very good businessman. He also didn't believe in flashing his good luck in front of others." He pushed the papers towards me more and I looked through them, not really paying attention to the words as my eyes grazed them. "When do you turn eighteen?"

I glanced up briefly. "January second."

"Oh, good. Everything will still be in court, then, so you won't have to set up a temporary guardian or anything. Just sign here. Once everything clears the court, and it will, I'll contact you and we'll get everything sorted then." Victor sat back and breathed out a big sigh as I quickly signed the document. "Do they have any leads on where the murderer is?"

"No, they found her car but she had given it to a junkie." I handed the pen back to the lawyer. "Jonathan thinks that she'll stay in Gotham, so hopefully someone will find her."

"Don't fret, D.G., if the Falcone family is going to react like I think they will, then she will be found." He started putting the papers back in his bag and held out his hand for me to shake. "You know if you ever need help with anything, I am more than happy to help you, right? Your father helped me get my business started, I owe everything to your family."

I brushed his hand away and hugged him, taking the older man by surprise. I pulled back and smiled at him. "You've helped Dad a lot over the years and if he considered anyone family, it was probably you. Take care, alright? I'll be sure to call you if I need help."

We said our goodbyes and I pretended to ignore the tears in his eyes. I knew my father's death probably hit him just as hard as it did me. I collapsed onto the bed as he left and Jonathan came in.

"That took awhile. What did he have to say?"

"Dad left everything to me."

"Well, I figured as much." I leaned up onto my elbows and raised an eyebrow. "You said before that he doesn't talk to his family, so who else would he leave anything to?"

I gave a little chuckle. "Well, do you want to hear why he doesn't talk to his family?" I took the silence as consent. "My father was born Anton Falcone. Carmine Falcone is his older brother."

"Really?" It took a lot to surprise my boyfriend, but judging by the look on his face, he was surprised. "Well, that would explain why he doesn't talk to his family. He took a false identity."

"Now I just have to see what they are going to do when they find out. I don't know when it's going to hit the papers."

Jonathan looked uncomfortable. "It's already in the News Register, D.G."

I shot up, a panicked look on my face. "What? When were you going to tell me?"

"I just saw it when I was out in the hall. A maid walked by with a stack of papers." A knock sounded at the door and we both stopped dead. "Could that be the lawyer again?"

"I hope so. Wouldn't the front desk call and let us know if anyone else tried to come up?"

"Not if they were paid off." Jonathan mumbled, but I heard it. He motioned for me to stay behind him as he walked towards the door. He looked through the peep hole and, keeping the chain connected, opened the door slightly. "Can I help you?"

The man on the other side of the door was barely older than us. He had dark hair and darker eyes, his skin had a pale olive tint to it. The smile he gave Jonathan was chilling. "I need to speak to Dahlia Cohen. I'm... family."

I could tell the way that Jonathan's eyes narrowed that he knew exactly what was going on. This man was a Falcone or, at least, part of the mafia. These fuckers are fast. "You are no family of hers. Leave before I call security."

The man stepped back and Jonathan moved to close the door. Just before it was shut, four hands came in between the gap and easily broke the chain. Jonathan ushered me back, keeping himself in between the broken door and me. The door swung open and two other men I hadn't noticed entered following the young man. They were all dressed in designer suits, the younger of them was obviously the leader. He gave the room a look that spoke volumes of his attitude before his gaze settled on us. His face was handsome but his dark eyes were dead inside. "That wasn't very... nice."

Jonathan was rigid in front of me. "Get. Out." I couldn't see the look on his face, but I knew just by the dark tone to his voice that his eyes were probably blazing with blue fire.

"Get out?" The man chuckled, taking a few steps towards us. His stride was confident, a boy raised to believe he had no masters. "Is this any way to treat long lost family?"

I took a deep breathe and stepped out from behind my protector. "What do you want?"

The second his eyes laid on me they came to life. "Well, if it isn't my cousin. My name is Mario Falcone, I'm sure you've heard of me."

I had. It was rumored that Mario was going to take over the Falcone crime family once Carmine died. He was as ruthless as his father. This was my father's nephew, my first cousin. "What do you want?"

Falcone gave me a mocking smile, bowing slightly. "It's nice to meet you, Dahlia Grace Cohen. I must say, when my father told me that Uncle Anton had died, I was surprised. I didn't even know that Uncle Anton was alive! I was even more surprised when he showed me pictures of his beautiful daughter that I didn't even know existed. I must say, pictures don't do you justice."

I felt Jonathan about to spring so I grabbed his hand, keeping him next to me. I spared him a glance and was momentarily taken back to when Collins showed up at my door. The same fierce mask was there, transforming the man that I loved into some one completely different. I turned my focus back to the stranger that claimed himself to be my family. "I'll ask again, what do you want, Mario Falcone?"

"Father is very, very interested in finally meeting you, Dahlia Falcone." I glared at him when he switched my last name. "A meeting, that is it. To discuss...family matters. No harm will come to you."

Jonathan was not happy. In fact, his anger was seeping out his pores, his eyes darker than ever. I sighed. I was already pretty much fucked, so I might as well get some answers before someone put a bullet through my skull. "Fine. But Jonathan is coming with me."

Mario shrugged, the unexplained glee still on his face. "Good, good. Father will be very pleased. We'll head there now, then."

A shiver creeped up my spine, what the fuck had I just gotten myself into?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry this is late! I had family things all weekend and they took up more time than I thought they would. I hope you guys liked this one! I (sadly) don't have time to reply to everyone again and get this up on time, so I just want to say thank you to everyone who reviews, favorites, alerts, everything! They all give me more drive to complete this part of the series. =) The next one should be up within a week or so.**


	13. 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun. No copyright infringement is intended.

**13**

**Welcome to the Family**

Carmine Falcone's... lair was a small Italian restaurant in the bad part of town. It was pretty stereotypical, really. I mean, what is it with Mafia Dons and Italian restaurants?

The way there had been too long, even though it was only a fifteen minute drive. Mario had forced us into a flashy black limo and it was then I realized how different my father was from his family. Sure, he may have been smart and business-minded, but all his dealings were legal and he didn't believe in showing his wealth. Until I had seen the number of zeros in his account, I never knew that he had that much. With these people, however, you could just take one look at them and you knew what figures they brought in.

The entire way, Mario had tried to drill me with questions. I didn't answer a single one, I just sat beside Jonathan with his pale hand gripped tightly in mine. The only time I would look away from my lap was to cast a glance at him and his face was always the same. He could have been carved from stone, his expression cold and calculating. The only way I could even tell he was upset was the fact that his eyes were still dark and blazing. I tried to pull my hand away once, but his grip only grew tighter.

It was evening by time we reached the restaurant, the sky darkening and snow falling on the dirty streets. It was across from the bay and it stood out against the other buildings because it was obviously taken care of. Junkies milled back and forth and I noticed more than one prostitute dart back into the alley at the sight of the limo. I felt myself grow sad at the sight.

The limo parked right in front of the small building and Mario basically kicked us out, making sure to keep us in front of him at all times. I stumbled as we got out of the stupid car, but Jonathan's quick reflexes caught me from face planting on the gross pavement. This did not go unnoticed by Mario. "Wow, you've just got a real knight in shining armor, don't you? Too bad he's a nerd."

Jonathan sent him a withering glance as he steadied me. His mouth was close enough to my ear that I could hear him speak lightly. "Are you alright?" I nodded slightly, trying not to give too much away. "We will get out of this, do not be afraid. These... people can smell fear, they thrive on it. I am not leaving your side."

"Hey!" Mario pushed Jonathan away from me, giving me a glare. "No secrets among family!" I rolled my eyes as he basically herded us into the place. It was busy, people were eating and none of them gave us a single glance. The floor was an odd checkerboard pattern and the walls looked like they were straight out of a Victorian home, they were a rick oak with fine details.

Carmine Falcone was sitting in a corner booth in front of a fireplace reading a newspaper. He was an older man with graying hair and dark eyes like his son. There was definitely a family resemblance, especially with their taste in suits. His son forced us to sit in the upholstered booth across from his father before walking away, obviously bored with us.

"Well, Dahlia Cohen, we finally meet." He set down the paper that I realized was the Gotham News Register, headlined "**NEWS REGISTER PRESIDENT DEAD AT 37**". It was no secret now, I guess. His eyes were trained on me now. "I assume you know who I am."

"Carmine Falcone." I was making sure not to give anything away.

"Also, your father's brother." I rolled my eyes and he folded his hands on the table. "But, I assume the lawyer already told you all about that."

"Things tend to come out when someone dies." My words were harsh and Jonathan shot a look at me, the meaning clear._ Keep that filter in check, Dahlia_. His voice rang through my head, the tone mocking. Figures, without even saying a word the man could still scold me.

"That they do. I'm sure you're wondering what I've asked you here for, considering I've never made an attempt to reach you before." Asked us here? I didn't realize that there was a choice involved. After another look from Jonathan, I realized I must have said that aloud. Oops.

Luckily for me, Falcone seemed to find humor in it. He chuckled darkly. "You really are a chip off the old block, you know that? Anton had the same attitude, it got him into trouble often." He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. "The reason why I invited you here is because I want to know what happened to my brother."

"Right." I brushed him off. "Because you cared for the past twenty years."

"Dahlia." Jonathan hissed at me, drawing attention to himself.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot about you. Who exactly are you?"

"Jonathan Crane." His voice was crystal clear, not betraying any emotion whatsoever.

"A boyfriend, eh?" His eyes were shining like he heard a particularly funny joke. He turned his eyes back to me. "Anton made his choice to leave our family when he met your mother. He wasn't cut out for the family business and our father knew that. He cut contact with us and we allowed it. That didn't mean that he wasn't protected, though."

"Protected?"

"Anton was still a Falcone, even if he chose to change his name. Nothing could erase the blood that ran through his veins. We made sure that no harm came to him or you." He took a sip of his drink. "However, when your airhead mother made you leave Gotham, your protection ran dry, which is why you ended up in the hospital." He smiled at my surprised look. "We know everything, D.G." He gave Jonathan an odd look but my boyfriend didn't flinch.

"Alright, so what do you want, then? Dad's dead, your job is over." I wanted to leave, I was still tired and this place gave me the goddamn creeps.

"Wrong, girlie. You are a Falcone, or did you forget?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "First things first. Who killed my brother?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What? Your informants at GCPD didn't tell you?" Jonathan's head hit the back of the booth and he sighed in frustration. "Kara Taylor, if that's her real name. She was my teacher when I was here."

Falcone nodded and two men I hadn't noticed standing behind us walked away. "We will find her if she's still in Gotham. If not, I have connections. No one kills a Falcone but a Falcone. What did she take?"

"She emptied two of his main accounts, the ones connected to the Paper. He kept everything else separate."

"Well, I'm glad he didn't forget everything that was taught to him." Frowning, the man seemed to let out a breath. "You are my brother's only child, you will be protected as long as you are here-"

I held out my hand. "Stop. If you're going to have me followed, I don't want to know. I just want to try to enjoy the rest of this nightmare of a vacation and I won't be able to do that with your men following me around like puppies." I sighed. "Plus, my mother would find out and I don't want her to know. He didn't want her to know."

"Fine, you will never know, then. Do you want to know what happens to Kara Taylor?"

"No."

"You really are just like your father. You have no stomach for dirty work, do you?"

"I still don't understand what you want from me."

"Nothing. Not yet. You will owe me a favor and I _love_ favors." His smile turned dark. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to. Would you like a ride back to the hotel?" The man stood and put his jacket on.

"No." It was Jonathan who spoke this time, his tone definitive.

Falcone shrugged. "Fine. Don't try to contact me, Ms. Cohen. When I need you, I will find you." With that, he swept out of the restaurant, three men following out of the nearby tables.

Once he was out of sight my shoulders sagged. Jonathan didn't relax, however, his eyes darted around the establishment. "We need to get out of here, Dahlia."

I sighed and adjusted my coat. "Alright, let's get then." Jonathan grabbed my hand and we left in haste, the oak door slamming behind us.

* * *

><p>We decided not to go back to the hotel right away. I guess after the past couple of days, we both needed time to think away from it all. Gotham was a great place to get lost in, there were so many different markets and districts. As long as you stayed away from the Narrows, you were safe.<p>

We had been wandering around for a good hour. I had finally managed to push all thoughts of Carmine Falcone and his idiot son Mario out of my head, hopefully for good. We had made it to the decent part of Gotham, the shops that lined the streets staying open late for the holiday season. I was guessing it was probably around eight or nine, but I really had no concept of time, so it could be midnight and I wouldn't be the wiser.

Jonathan had been quiet most of the time, probably lost in thought. I head led him through the maze of streets to get here, good thing too. If I hadn't, he might have walked out in front of a bus.

We were walking past a music store when something in the window caught my eye and made me stop dead. On a stand was a gorgeous violin. It was a pearl white with a light blue filigree scrolling down the fingerboard onto the bridge and body. The bow next to it was the same icy blue as the details on the violin itself. At a risk of sounding like a cornball, the violin reminded me of Jonathan's eyes. God, I'm turning into a sap.

Apparently Jonathan had finally noticed I wasn't next to him, I felt his presence at my side. "It's beautiful."

I smiled, happy I wasn't the only one who saw beauty in the instrument. "It really is."

"Why haven't I heard you play?"

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick. "I don't like people listening to me practice. I only like them to hear the finished result. I was busy working on a song for Dad... but he'll never hear it now, will he?"

His arms wrapped around my waist and I was pressed into his wool coat. I buried my face into Jonathan's chest as he kissed my forehead. "I'm so sorry. I know I haven't said it before, but I am."

Tears threatened to spill and I tried to blink them back. "I just... can't get over it. Everything I see reminds me of him. I constantly feel like I'm in some sort of limbo, I never know if I'm going to start laughing and burst into tears. I think I'm going crazy. I'm so fucking weak and I can't stand it."

"Hey." Fingers tilted my chin upwards until I felt warm lips on my cold ones. I sighed and leaned in, happy to get this little bit of comfort. Here was my boyfriend, Jonathan Crane, kissing me in the middle of the sidewalk. The man who was afraid to touch me in public had actually started this. My heart felt a little better, even as he pulled away. His eyes were light again, lighter than they had been since we found my father on the floor. "It's _not_ weak to mourn. It's completely normal what you are going through and I promise you I will be with you every step of the way as long as you want me there. It's not weak to love. Of all the people in Atlanta, you are the one who taught me that."

He gave me a soft smile that made my stomach do cartwheels. There was that word again. **Love**. That was the second time he said it to me. He was right, of all the people in Atlanta, I was the one who found him on the floor. I was the only one who stuck up for him, the one who had the courage to look the head bitch in the eyes and pour soda down her shirt. Jonathan was the one who found me bleeding on the floor and the one who took care of me while I healed. He was the one who pulled me away from my father's corpse and held me despite being covered in blood.

I still don't know why I helped him that day. It was a complete mystery to me. I had heard the others talk about him. Creepy Crane, Scarecrow, etc. I hadn't paid them or anything any mind. I had decided to remain anonymous, just a shadow in the brightly lit hallways and classrooms. I just wanted to survive my last year of high school But all of that went out of the window as soon as I saw him on the floor with his glasses shattered. What I did next was stupid and I can't explain why I chose him over everyone else in the school.

I hadn't realized it before, but maybe, just maybe we were meant to find each other. Maybe I was drug to Georgia for a reason. It was like gravity for us, we were constantly pulled towards one another.

.My heart was about to explode out of my chest. I did love him. We may not have known each other for long but it didn't seem to matter. I had fallen in love for the first time in my life and I had apparently fallen fast.

So, I did the best thing I could think of. In the middle of the snowy Gotham street, I grabbed Jonathan Crane and crashed my lips to his, smiling when he pulled me closer. Like gravity.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know it's short! And I really don't have a good excuse for it other than I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days so I figured I would get this out now.**

**I now have a title for the second part of the series! I'm not going to reveal it to the last chapter, but I'm so excited to finally have it so I had to tell you guys.**

**Thank you too the couple of people who reviewed and favorited! All off the feedback makes me work harder! I hope you guys like this one too, despite the length. Let me know if you do. The next one should be out in a week or so.**


	14. 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I also do not own the Wonderful Wizard of Oz by Frank L. Baum. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun. No copyright infringement is intended.

**14**

**Kings and Queens**

Christmas Eve. The time when the chaos really started. Gotham became very crowded and it didn't lessen up until after the first of the new year. The wrong day to go shopping, but what can I say? I like to live on the edge.

I had ditched Jonathan at my Aunts with my mother, ignoring the look of retribution he gave me as I drove away laughing. Shopping alone cleared my head. I only had my mother and Jonathan to buy for, but I planned on taking all day doing it.

I was getting tired of being babied all the time. Yes, my father died. Yes, I found his body. Yes, I was a wreck and most of the time I didn't know whether I was going to laugh or curl into a little ball. However, walking on egg shells around me was only making it worse.

Jonathan was the only one who didn't, actually. When I was being ridiculous, he just raised an eyebrow at me or gave me his 'shut up Dahlia' looks. True, it made me angry. But anger is better than wanting to pick the nearest balcony to throw myself off of. Right?

I had parked in a parking garage and was walking down the street in the Fashion District on my way to Killinger's. It was decent out, the snow had stopped falling a couple hours ago and the clouds overhead kept the snow from turning into a melted mess. It was windy, though, so I had buttoned up and pulled my scarf around my face. I preferred to walk in Gotham than drive my car, you didn't get to experience the charm of the city behind a steering wheel and plate of glass.

I was only a block away from Killinger's when I saw something across the street that caught my eye. My favorite book store was now defunct, apparently. I frowned, my heart hurting a little. Tryna's Books had been open as long as I could remember, it was a childhood staple for me and my father. Every Sunday we would go out for breakfast and after breakfast he would bring me here and let me pick out a book for the week. But, like everything else in Gotham, it was dying when I visited the last time before I left for Georgia.

"Sad, isn't it?" I almost jumped out of my skin and I turned to the new voice. Holy shit. "This place had been here for years before they went out of business."

It was Bruce Wayne in the flesh. I had only seen him in photographs in my father's paper. He was much more handsome in real life, of course. He was only a couple years older than me, in his early twenties or so. His brown hair was ruffled from the wind and the pink in his cheeks made him look younger than he was. He also had his long coat buttoned up with a scarf. But, really, what was Bruce Wayne doing out in public without his guard or whatever he had?

I noticed he was waiting for an answer and I turned red. "Er, yeah. It is. My father used to bring me here all the time as a kid. It was still open when I moved a couple months ago. Why did it close?"

"We'll probably never know. Maybe they didn't pay their protection fee. It just closed without any warning." I frowned, remembering the kind man that used to work behind the counter. I really hoped that Bruce was wrong, the bottom of the river was no resting place for a good man like that. "I'm Bruce Wayne." He held out a gloved hand that I took hesitantly.

"I know, Mister Wayne. You have a very distinctive face. I grew up here, if I didn't know who you were it would be blasphemy." He gave me a small smile and shook my hand. "I'm D.G. Cohen."

Recognition colored his features. "Dahlia Cohen." I winced at the use of my full name. Didn't I get that enough with Jonathan? "I thought you looked familiar. You're David Cohen's daughter. Your father talked about you non-stop last time I ran into him."

I smiled sadly. "I assume you heard the news?"

"I did." He nodded sadly. "You have my sympathies, Miss Cohen." That actually meant a lot more to me than most people. This man actually knew what it was like to lose his parents and I felt the meaning in his words. "Your father was a good man."

"Just call me D.G. Mr. Wayne, please."

"Only if you call me Bruce." That shocked a giggle out of me and Bruce's smile only grew. "This is going to sound weird, but do you want to join me for lunch?"

I pretended to think about it before breaking into a smile. "Sure. I know a little diner, it's just right around the corner. Sound alright to you?"

He nodded and we made our way to the diner I was talking about, Emily's. I led him inside and it was obvious he hadn't been there before. But why would he? He was Bruce Wayne for God's sake.

The diner was small and it was never crowded. The elderly owner, Emily, ran a tight ship. Unless you knew her personally, you weren't allowed to loiter after you were done. It was reminiscent of a 50's place, with red vinyl seats and checkerboard flooring. Soda memorabilia and pictures of old Gotham lined the walls along with old advertising neons. I instantly felt at home, this was where Dad and I went every Sunday morning. I've never brought anyone here, I have no idea what I brought Bruce.

The bell clanged as we walked in, making Emily look up from where she was waiting on someone at the counter. Her face lit up as she scanned my face and looked confused at my new companion. "D.G.! It's been so long!"

I allowed a smile for her. "Hey, Emily."

"Sit down, sit down! I'll be over to talk at ya in a clock tick." The familiar way she spoke made me even more at ease and I picked a booth away from the window, knowing that Bruce would draw attention.

I discarded my coat and Bruce did the same, sitting across from me. "This place is..."

"Eccentric?" I smiled warmly. "Just like the owner. I grew up coming here." I looked over Bruce's shoulder and saw a couple in Dad and I's usual seat. It felt better than seeing it empty. "How did you know my Dad?"

"My father talked about him often. Said he was the only honest journalist in Gotham." I smiled at that. "I ran into him before I left for Princeton. He talked about you the entire time, I knew everything about you by time he was done with me. He even had pictures."

I burst out laughing, almost in tears. "I'm sorry." I laughed. "He was a little overbearing at best."

"He was proud, and rightfully so."

"Dahlia Grace Cohen, I haven't seen you in months!" Emily breezed over. She was an older woman, with gray hair to match her eyes that had laugh lines surrounding them. But she was fit and energetic and, truth to be told, a force to be reckoned with. I've seen her put a grown man with a pistol on the floor in under a minute. "Where have you been? I was going to send out a search party. Especially after I read the paper!"

I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Emily. It's been a rough couple of days." I looked at Bruce who was watching me intently. "We don't know when the funeral is yet, but when I do, I'll let you know."

Emily nodded sagely and just then seemed to notice who I was with. "Mister Wayne?" I laughed lightly at the amused look on his face. "Oh my goodness, I haven't had a Wayne in here since your grandfather." I told you this restaurant was old. "Well, what are you two having?"

" Water and a chicken salad for me." Bruce echoed my order and Emily moved on to the new couple who walked in. "What do you think?"

"It's..."

"Not Alonzo's, I know. But Emily is a family friend and her food is amazing. This won't be your only time here, that I can promise." Emily walked over and gave us our waters, walking away after giving me a wink. I rolled my eyes and took a sip. "So, what are you doing back in Gotham?"

"I came back for the hearing and I've decided to stay."

I almost asked what hearing but something Dad said to me popped back up. His parents killer was set to be released. I gulped down a feeling of revulsion. "They're letting that monster go?"

Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We'll find out tomorrow."

"You're not... going, are you?"

"I am." A determined look crossed his face and I could tell he'd had this conversation before. "Someone needs to be there to represent my parents."

"I understand." And I did.

"Do you know who killed your father?"

"Her name is Kara Taylor. She used to one of my teacher's in school." I frowned, realizing how young that made me sound. "My dad cheated on my mom with her."

Bruce winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, it was a messy divorce. That's why I moved to Georgia. Dad had the murderer, Mom has no one but me."

Emily came over with the food and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we started to eat. I was kind of shocked how this day turned out. Meeting Bruce Wayne of all people, seeing Emily again. I all of the sudden kind of wished I hadn't left Jonathan with my aunt. He's probably ready to lobotomize me by now and I hadn't even got any shopping done yet.

"Don't you want revenge?" I was broken out of my thoughts and I looked up from my salad. Bruce was leaning back in the vinyl booth, his hazel eyes on me. "For your father's death."

I shook my head. "No. That's not what my father would want for me and I know that. Sure, I would love to see the woman burn, but I'm not a killer. That would make me no better than her."

Bruce looked down before looking back at me. "But what if they don't catch her?"

"I don't know." I shrugged and took another bite. "Obviously, I'm hoping they do. But what's done is done, killing her won't make me feel better or bring my father back. I want the police to catch her, not just because she killed my Dad, but also because Gotham deserves better than to have murderers and mobs run it's streets."

"How old are you now?"

"Seventeen."

Bruce cracked a smile at me. "You're mature for your age."

"I have a genius for a boyfriend with a penchant for wanting to pick my mind." I laughed a little. "It really is hard, and I know you understand better than anyone. But I know that my Dad would hang me if I wasted my life in jail to avenge his death. He shoved my potential down everyone's throat, even yours."

"That he did." My new friend looked conflicted. "Thank you for coming to lunch on a whim."

I grinned. "Hey, who would give up the chance to go to lunch with _the_ Prince of Gotham?"

"Please." Bruce rolled his eyes.

We lapsed again into a comfortable silence as we finished our meals. When Emily brought the check, Bruce grabbed it out of my hand. I was about to protest before he shot me a look. We migrated outside and Bruce stuck his hand out. "It was nice meeting you, D.G."

I just smiled and shook his hand. "You too, Bruce. I hope that tomorrow brings you the closure that we both need."

Bruce just gave me a small, almost sad, smile before walking off.

I turned on my heel and started walking to Killinger's. I had to get this shopping done and head back before Jonathan sent out a assassin for revenge.

* * *

><p>Two hours later I was pulling up to my Aunt's, where Jonathan and I would be staying for the night. Despite how much I really couldn't stand my mother's sister, I felt the need to be around family right now. Besides, the hotel had yet to get our door fixed since my new-found idiot cousin broke it.<p>

I left the bags in the car, I had them wrapped at a charity stand in the department store. It saved me a lot of trouble considering I would have to wait until Mom and Jonathan fell asleep and Jonathan wasn't exactly known for his normal sleeping habits.

I walked up to the cute brownstone and let myself in, almost wishing I hadn't come back yet.

The place was in absolute chaos. People were everywhere, children were running around like crazy and it was **loud**. Like, a dull roar kind of loud.

I cautiously made my way in, catching site of my mom first. She was in the kitchen surrounded by the other women of the family, probably talking their ears off. "MOM!"

She turned and smiled at me, waving. "Hey, hun! Jon's in the living room with the kids."

Oh god. All sorts of images floated through my mind. Jonathan tying the children up, the children tying Jonathan up. This couldn't be good no matter how it turned out.

I hurried into the living room and was actually surprised at what I found. Jonathan was in the middle of the room with his legs crossed, my little cousin Olivia on his lap. The blonde toddler was looking at a book that Jonathan had open and a couple more kids were fanned out around them.

"'Dorothy listened to this speech with wonder. What could the little woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceress, and saying that she had killed the Wicked Witch of the East?'" Jonathan paused for effect, drawing the children in more. He pushed up his glasses and turned the page. "'Dorothy was an innocent helpless little girl, who had been carried by a cyclone many mile from home; and she had never killed anything in all her life.'"

I smiled happily and leaned against the doorway, listening to Jonathan read the children the Wizard of Oz. His voice was soothing and I noticed Olivia promptly fell asleep. I couldn't stop the giggle from escaping my throat and Jonathan looked up, startled.

His blue gaze fell on me and he gave me a little smirk. "Took you long enough."

"Please." I scoff. "Like you weren't having fun."

His smirk turned into a genuine smile and I felt butterflies. "I never said I wasn't." He looked at the sleeping toddler on his lap and made a face.

"Jonotin! What happens to Dorothy?" I giggled again as Olivia's brother Issac butchered Jonathan's name.

"When you're done with story time, I'll be in the kitchen."

"He'll never be done, story time is forever!" I raised my eyebrows at Isaac and then looked at Jonathan.

"Guess you're stuck then!"

"Dah-" Jonathan gave me a horrified look.

"Have fun!" I laughed as I walked out of the living room. He was going to kill me when he got free, but the opportunity was far too good to pass up.

I made my way into the bright yellow kitchen, smiling when my mom caught my eye. "Hey, Mom."

"How's Jon doing?" Mom still didn't seem to grasp that Jonathan preferred his name to Jon, Jonnie, Jons, and every other nickname she has come up. Either that, or she did it to irk him. Either one would be believable.

"Well, no one is bound and gagged, so I think it's fine." I took a piece of cheese from the tray and popped it in my mouth. "Olivia is asleep on his lap and Isaac is holding him hostage until he finds out what happens to Dorothy."

Mom giggled and my Aunt Shirley walked in carrying a crock pot. "Dahlia, glad to see you finally made it."

I groaned. I don't know how my mother and Uncle Roth could be related to this woman. That's probably why Uncle Roth was spending the holidays in Paris, actually. To stay away from Shirley. I ignored her. "Have the police called or anything?"

Mom shook her head sadly. "Sorry, baby. I've made sure that everyone has been off the phone, too, just in case."

"Yes, it's quite the inconvenience." Shirley tittered. "Then again, your father was always a fan of inconveniencing others."

If I was a cat, I'm sure my hair would have been standing on end. "Excuse me?"

"And that boyfriend of yours. He's rather feminine, don't you think? A little stuck-up, too. He didn't talk to anyone but Beatrice for the first hour he was here!"

I glared at her but Mom beat me to answering. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe he's just a little shy? Jonathan isn't used to being around this many people, Shirls."

"Even so, sister, he should be a little more friendly. Maybe there's a reason that his family won't talk to him."

"Maybe he just didn't want to deal with your attitude." I pushed Shirley out of the way. "I'm going outside." I grabbed my coat off the wrack and escaped outside into the back yard.

Despite Shirley's obvious attitude and everything else, she had good taste. Her yard was flat and empty for the most part since it was winter, but in the summer it was perfect for entertaining. It had a gorgeous koi pond and a brick patio with a fire pit, but my favorite part was in the corner. A small white gazebo.

I trudged my way through the snow and stepped into the shelter, sighing as I sat on the cold bench. I really should have known that coming here would have been a mistake. Shirley was the type of woman who wasn't pleased with anything. She fancied herself high-class, like she should be mingling with Bruce Wayne's crowd instead of her own family.

I knew she was going to find fault with Jonathan, but I had hoped she would have kept her mouth shut for at least a couple of days. The good thing is there was no way Jonathan would have heard her. If he had, I'm sure hell would have broke loose.

I leaned over and watched the snow fall from the dark sky, frowning. This wasn't how my Christmas was supposed to go. My dad shouldn't be in the GCPD morgue. I shouldn't be at my evil aunt's. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them to conserve warmth.

I looked over at the patio when I heard the door open. Jonathan stepped out, shrugging on his jacket. His tall figure was illuminated by the light from the door, making him appear otherworldly. He glanced around the yard, his gaze falling on me eventually and he made quick work of the already short walk to my side.

"What's wrong?" I shook my head and Jonathan sat behind me, pulling me against his chest. "Don't lie to me, D.G."

"This... just isn't how I expected the year to end." I worried my bottom lip. "I just wanted us to have a good Christmas together. I can't imagine that you had many."

"None." Jonathan's long fingers threaded through mine. "Grandmother didn't believe that I deserved Christmases, being the child of a whore."

Thinking about how awful his childhood must have been made me feel bad for being so dramatic. Someone somewhere always has it worse than you do. "I'm sorry. I'm just whiny."

"No, you are making your way through the grieving process. It's completely natural when you've lost a family member." His voice was soothing as always, making me relax a little.

"What happened to your parents?" To my surprise, Jonathan didn't react. His chest was still rising and falling in the same rhythm.

"My mother was Karen. She was young, probably around our age if not a little older. Grandmother had her when she was older, likely in her late thirties or so. Karen was an addict if Grandmother can be believed. She disappeared for over a year and when she returned, she was pregnant.

"She had met Gerald Crane when she was on a trip. Grandmother said he promised Karen all the bells and whistles, a marriage, a house. Of course, she believed him. She came running back home when he went back to his wife and children." He sighed behind me, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my hands. "After she had me, she left. I've never heard from either of them."

I turned to him and kissed him lightly. "I'm sorry. It must be awful."

"I'm not letting my past define me, Dahlia. And you won't either. We have an interesting future ahead of us." He crashed his lips to mine and I forgot about everything.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I still can't believe we're on chapter fourteen now! It's been fun writing for you. =) We're heading into the last bend of Dal Niente now. Probably about 5-6 more chapters and then I'll be writing theshort second part. There will be a HUGE time jump between Dal Niente and the second part, but I'm thinking of putting up short one-shots between the two to fill in some gaps. What do you guys think? I need feedback. =)**

**Next one should be up next week sometime. Have a good week, guys and thanks for sticking with me so far.**


	15. 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun. No copyright infringement is intended.

**15**

**Moment**

Carmine Falcone was a hard man to impress. Many tried, many failed. He was an even harder man to frighten. Carmine ran the city from behind the Emerald curtain so to speak, so what would he be afraid of? Judges? Bought off. Cops? He owned them **and** their families. City officials? What few weren't in his pocket were too afraid of the ones that were to do anything. Gotham was his playground and Carmine ruled it with an iron fist. He knew damn near everyone in this hellhole and if he didn't, he found out who they were.

That's why the young man sitting in front of him did what many couldn't. He both impressed and frightened him at the same time. Jonathan Crane defied everything that he knew and trusted. Despite his (and his sources) best efforts, nothing could be found about the kid. Not a birth date, social, address, absolutely nothing. For all the effort, this kid shouldn't exist. Yet he sat across from him in the booth, those strange eyes trained on him.

Getting a late night call on Christmas Eve was not something he had really planned on, but Falcone needed information on the cunt that killed his brother. No one killed a Falcone but a Falcone. The bitch was going to pay one way or another. So, when his niece's boyfriend contacted him, saying he had information, Carmine told him to meet him at the restaurant.

Without his niece around, Jonathan Crane seemed much different than before. Gone was the quiet man that glared daggers. Now he was arrogant and cold, he regarded everyone in his line of sight like they were something to be crushed. His feminine face had a wild look, the light behind his icy eyes were damn near demonic. If he were a lesser man, Falcone would probably run.

The kid leaned back, a smirk on his face. "I am deeply sorry to contact you this late, but since you have made absolutely **no** headway in finding David Cohen's killer, I thought you might appreciate some... assistance."

"Where's my niece?"

"She's asleep at her aunt's, where I left her. She's such a deep sleeper, didn't even notice me get out of bed." Something about the tone in Crane's voice sent a shudder down Carmine's spine, but he was quick to not let it show. No matter what, he wasn't giving this little freak the upper hand. "I would be grateful if you didn't mention my involvement to her. Dahlia is sensitive since her father's death, and I will be very... annoyed if she were to be upset. In any way."

Catching the thinly-veiled threat, Carmine glared. "Let's just get on with the information, alright? What do you know?"

"Everything." Crane smiled. "But before I tell you, I want a guarantee that I will be notified when you find her. I want a few moments with her before you kill her."

"Why?" Falcone's brows knitted together.

"I've been working on a little compound. She will be the perfect test subject."

"Does Dahlia know?"

"No." There was an edge to his voice. "And I need you to be discrete about this information. I've worked too long on this for anyone to make a mess out of it."

"Do you really think you are good for her?"

Crane's eyes narrowed. "Don't act like you care. You completely ignored her entire existence until a week ago. You have no right to say what is good for her and what isn't, do you understand?"

"Alright, alright." The kid was treading on thin ice, talking down to him. But he was Dahlia's boyfriend and he had information. That made him safe and he knew it. For the time being, that is. "What's this information?"

"I've been doing a little digging." The smile on the kid's face was manic. He pulled out a folder and opened it, revealing maps and a picture. Carmine picked up the picture, the broad was beautiful. Anton's type, blonde hair and legs to her tits. "It's quite interesting, really. The police in this town must be stupid, it was quite _easy_. Taking the information Gotham's finest had and what Dahlia knew, it was easy to pinpoint where she was staying. I knew she would stay close to home, she's currently staying with her cousin in the Narrows. It's even easier on you that way."

Flipping through the information, Carmine decided he was impressed. It was very thorough. "How did you do all this?"

Crane snorted and crossed his arms. "Her type is easy. So one-dimensional. It wasn't a challenge, I assure you." Looking at the clock, he stood and shrugged his jacket on. "I must get back before Dahlia misses me. I trust I'll be hearing from you shortly." He quickly disappeared out the door.

Carmine sat back and ran a hand over his hair. What the hell had just happened?

* * *

><p>"Dahlia!" I groaned and batted the offending hand away. "Wake up!"<p>

"No!" I turned away from my annoying boyfriend and buried my head under the pillow. There was no way I was getting up yet, I felt like I could sleep for another year or so.

Cold hands went up my shirt, directly to my ribs. I shrieked and pulled away, falling off the bed in the process. I cried out when my back hit the hardwood floor. Fuck. I heard chuckles from above me and Jonathan leaned over, trying to hold his laughter in. "Are you alright?"

"You're not gonna be if you don't go away." I rubbed my eyes and winced. "What time is it?"

"Five."

"In the morning? Seriously?" I sat up and glared at him. "You had better have a damn good reason to wake me up this early! Why are you dressed?"

He silenced me with his lips, his hands gently lifting me back onto the bed. His kisses became more and more passionate and he pushed me down to the mattress. He bit my lip and I moaned, making him smirk against my lips before pulling back. "Before we get carried away, I woke you up for a reason. It's Christmas."

"Really?" I rolled my eyes and leaned up to capture his lips again. He sighed and pushed me back.

"Come on, your family will be up soon and I want you all to myself for an hour." Jonathan grabbed a shirt and pair of jeans out of my open suitcase and all but threw them at me.

"Gee, for wanting to spend time with me, you're awfully bossy." But I dressed nonetheless. I pulled on my black boots and glanced up at him. "Why are you dressed already? How long have you been awake?" I distinctly remembered falling asleep in his arms and he was snoring by then.

"Awhile now. I had to get a few things done before I woke you up." He gave me a smile, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the lamp. "Don't worry, I suspect you will stop hating me once we get to where we're going."

"Do I need a jacket, your highness?"

Another roll of the eyes. "Yes, Dahlia. Hurry up."

I hadn't even gotten my arms through the sleeves before Jonathan had my hand and was pulling me out of the guest room. The entire house was eerily quiet, light snores coming from the living room where the kids were sleeping. They would be up in an hour to wake their parents. That's how it went every Christmas.

Jonathan pulled me out of the house so quickly I barely had time to shut the door behind me. I went to walk to the Charger by Jonathan pulled me in the other direction down the street. It was still dark and it was freezing. Snow was falling, just adding to the cold and the already snow-covered streets. "May I ask where we're going?"

"No." I sighed and his grip on my hand tightened briefly. "Be patient, D.G."

"You know I don't do well with patience, Jonny." He blanched at my use of my mother's nickname for him and I smiled for the first time since I woke up. Pay back. "Waking up before seven is a crime, you know."

"I'm always up before seven."

"Yes, well, I'm a girl. We require sleep to look decent." I could literally feel the bags under my eyes and I'm sure my hair was a wreck. Not to mention the rumbled shirt and ripped jeans I was wearing. The only thing decent on me was my black peacoat.

Jonathan kept silent and finally stopped. I looked around and memories rushed me at me. My heart constricted tightly in my chest.

We were at the park at the end of my aunt's lane. My father used to take me here every time we visited. We would stay for the entire day, leaving my mom with her sister. Of course, I knew why now. Dad hated Shirley more than anything on the planet. But still, this place was special to me.

Unlike most of Gotham, this place was untouched by the depression. It had a small shelter next to a man-made duck pond and play equipment for the kids. It was a small park, usually the community that surrounded it took care of the upkeep. With the snow, it was beautiful, the lake froze over. My heart continued to clench in my chest. "How-?"

"Your mother told me about it while you were gone yesterday." Jonathan wrapped his arm around my waist. "Since the house is still... tied up, I thought you would like to come here. At least, for a little while."

I pulled away and walked towards the shelter, remembering all the times that Dad and I took picnics there. We always had the same thing, I would have a jelly sandwich and he would bring peanut butter. We always mixed them together when we got here. Mom thought we were crazy, but it was just one of those traditions. The swingset next to the shelter was my favorite in the entire world, I would make him push me on it for hours.

Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them back, turning back to my best friend. Jonathan was watching me with that unfathomable expression. I smiled sadly. "Thank you... I actually forgot about this place. It's not even been a couple days since he died and I'm already forgetting things." My voice cracked and I swallowed a sob.

"Hush, Dahlia." It wasn't even a second before he was holding me, wrapping his arms around my tightly and pulling me into his chest. "You are not forgetting. You are stressed and upset. Your mind is having a hard time compensating for everything, which is probably partially my fault." I gave him a weird look so he elaborated. "When you sleep, your brain recharges. It also sorts through everything that you did during the day and files it away. I've been keeping you awake."

"I'm afraid I won't remember him." A sob broke through and I felt the tears come loose, too. I buried my face into Jonathan's jacket, trying to absorb his warmth. "What if I forget him?"

"You won't. I promise." His calm voice soothed my thoughts, along with his thin fingers running up and down my back. "Coming to places like this, it will only keep your memories of him alive. But that's not the only reason I brought you here."

I pulled back a little and Jonathan reached into his jacket pocket, bringing out something that caught that glinted. I raised and eyebrow before Jonathan held the item out to me.

It was a small locket. It was heart-shaped, made out of a brilliant gold that matched the chain. The locket had a small star design in the middle with a diamond in the center. It was older, but it was well cared for. It was simple and beautiful.

I swallowed weakly. "It's beautiful."

"It was my mother's at one point. I found it when I was young, when I still had the belief that she would come to save me." His voice was bitter and harsh, but I knew the tone wasn't aimed at me. "I kept it for all those years and I always told myself that I would give it to her when she came for me. But she never did." His tone changed, becoming softer. He met my eyes then and waves of emotion crashed over me.

"You did. You were the one who saved me, after all that time. I wasn't sure what to make of you at first. I'm still not sure what to make of you, to be honest. But you didn't give up and I thank you for that." He placed the locket in my hand, closing it gently. "This belongs to you. It always has, I think."

Tears blinded me again and I bit my lip. I held it out to him and smiled shyly. "Would you help me put it on?"

A relieved smile broke out on his beautiful face. "Turn around." I did and held my hair as he deftly latched the necklace. It was light and rested at the hollow of my throat. I fingered it lightly as I turned around again. "I was right, it belongs to you."

I smiled and pressed myself against him, my lips seeking his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my fingers delved into this soft hair just as light blinded us from the horizon. I pulled away and watched in awe as the sun came up, the brilliant hues breaking through the dull snow clouds. Jonathan pulled me so my back was against his chest and rested his head on my shoulder. I smiled, content. "You know, I don't think I've ever watched the sun come up."

I felt Jonathan's mouth turn up before he placed a kiss on my neck. "Merry Christmas, Dahlia."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry it's been soo long! A lot of stuff has happened these past few weeks and have put off my schedule. But I'm back! This is short because I'm writing it at 10 PM but hey, the next one will be longer.**

**Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and put this on your alerts! I love getting those notifications, they make me happy. I hope I haven't lost readers due to the long wait, but this will be the longest you will ever have to wait between chapters, I promise.**

**So, let me know if you like it or hate it and thanks for sticking with me. Next one should be up by next week at the earliest.**


	16. 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun. **

**16**

**Hurt**

New Years Eve with my family was just as chaotic as Christmas. The family members who had left after Christmas were back in full drunken force and it was only eleven in the morning.

Jonathan and I had agreed to spend yet _another_ night at my Aunt's with my mom, even though I wasn't planning on spending most of the time here. It was Jonathan's first New Years in Gotham, which meant I was going to make it special. I was taking him to the city for the ball drop, even though he was adamant he'd rather stay at my aunt's.

Of course, to get him to agree to go, I owed him. What did he choose? To go to my father's condo. I had almost backed down but he gave me that look and told me a deal was a deal. Fuck.

That's why Jonathan and I were standing at my father's doorstep. Apparently I had the police's clearance to go inside but that didn't make my feet move. In fact, we had been standing outside for nearly ten minutes. I was cold and my teeth were chattering, but even that wasn't enough incentive to go inside.

I heard Jonathan shift behind me and his voice broke through the silence. "Dahlia."

I looked at the open door and the foyer inside. It was dark inside, all the window coverings drawn by the GCPD. "Do you think... the blood?"

"It's gone. The police have people to clean up. Gordon assured me. It's spotless."

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick. "I don't want to go in."

"I know." Jonathan put his hand on the small of my back and slowly guided me inside the door. "We won't be here long, I promise."

I didn't bother taking my shoes off. The condo wasn't nearly as inviting as it had been a week before. It had lost all it's warmth in a span of a couple days. The only thing that was left was empty halls and the lingering scent of cinnamon, left from years of burning the same candles over and over.

I let my boyfriend guide me further in and I registered that he shut the door behind us. It was cold inside, the furnace had been shut off by the gas company. It was only about ten degrees warmer than the outside. I drew my coat tighter around me, the cold seemed to seep into my bones. I glanced at the stairs and made my mind up. If I had to go into the kitchen, that was the last place I was going to go.

I started up the steps, wincing when the creaking broke through the silence of the house. Jonathan was behind me, though he made considerably less noise than I did.

The door to my room was shut like I knew it would be. Glancing at the steel doorknob, I quickly grabbed it and turned it. As soon as it clicked I let it go and pushed the door open. I wasn't ready for what was on the other side.

Gone were the pink colored walls and purple carpet of my childhood. The entire room had been transformed in the short time I had been in Georgia and it was obvious my dad had kept me in mind.

The walls were now a bright blue with brown trim. The carpet had been ripped up to reveal the dark wood beneath it and it had been recently polished. My white twin bed had been replaced as well, a queen size sleigh bed in it's place. It was obviously expensive, the wood was a dark cherry and it had simple details in the woodwork. The covers were the same colors as the walls in a checkerboard pattern. A matching dresser and a desk sat along the opposite wall.

The room as perfect.

My heart clenched in my chest. Dad had put violin racks on the free wall diagonally and on the lowest rack was a white violin I hadn't seen before. It was beautiful in that it was simple, a stark white body and scroll with a black fingerboard and chinrest. A white bow was hanging next to it. Tears blurred my vision as I touched the instrument, this room was what my dad had been working on when he couldn't talk, I bet.

"Dahlia, you might want to see this." I jumped at the sound of Jonathan's voice and looked over at him. He was at the desk so I quickly walked over, swallowing again when I saw a picture of my dad and I on the desk. I turned my attention to my boyfriend and saw he had something in his hands. He looked up from the piece of paper and held it out to me. "Read it."

I carefully took the paper, almost as if it would bite, and glanced at it. It was a note from my dad, I could tell by the handwriting. I looked back up at Jonathan and he looked at the paper and nodded. I turned my attention back to the letter.

_D.G.,_

_I figured I should do this in case you come in while we're asleep. You never know what the traffic is going to be like in Gotham._

_I know you weren't happy with how I couldn't stay on the phone when you called, but now you know why. You really do have the worst timing when calling. I hope you like your room, I figured it was time to redecorate since you're no longer five. The violin is yours, of course. An early Christmas present._

_I'll see you in the morning. Make yourself (and your boyfriend) at home. I can threaten him tomorrow._

_-Dad_

_P.S. I had Kara pick up stuff for pumpkin rolls, so be ready to bake in the morning._

_P.S.S. I love you, darling. Welcome home._

Jonathan had me in his arms before I broke down, clutching the note to my chest as I cried.

I don't know how long I cried or how we ended up on the floor, but I do know that Jonathan held me through it all. I was exhausted by the time I calmed down, the note still in my hands. I was no longer numb like I had been the past few days, I felt almost normal now.

"Are you alright?" Jonathan leaned his forehead against mine. He had been quiet during my breakdown, just holding me and rubbing my back soothingly. His eyes sought my bloodshot ones and I nodded slowly.

"I think so. I feel better now. Like everything is... okay."

"We can leave now if you want."

I frowned before realization hit me. This was what Jonathan had meant to accomplish all along. By bringing me here, he had planned to break me out of the numb gray I had put myself in. I almost got angry but I knew he had good intentions. And I did feel better.

"Do you think we should turn the note in?" I really didn't want to, it was the last thing Dad had ever said to me, in a way. I don't know if I would get it back if the GCPD wanted it.

"No." Jonathan kissed me on the forehead lightly. "I don't think there's anything groundbreaking in that note."

I nodded before looking up at the picture on the desk. I grabbed it and moved back over to Jonathan. "This was him, you know." The picture was an older one, it was taken by my mom at the same park Jonathan and I went to a couple days ago. I was about six in the picture. Dad had grabbed me and was throwing me into the air like he used to and Mom had taken the picture at just the right time. Dad was smiling and laughing, the sun shining off his dark hair and his arms were outstretched, ready to catch me. My eyes were open and I was laughing, my hair was everywhere. "It sounds weird, but this is how I will always remember him."

Jonathan took the picture from me, his hair falling into his eyes. He gave me a small smile. "You were cute."

I giggled a bit and took the picture back. I focused on my dad's face and sobered a little. "He really does look like a Falcone, doesn't he?"

"He looks like your father. It doesn't matter who his biological family is, he chose you above everything else."

"I know... I'm afraid of what Falcone wants with me." I hadn't admitted it before but it felt good saying. "He has to want something. I don't buy the whole family man thing he's trying to pull."

"You don't have to be afraid of anything, D.G. I promise you, nothing is going to come of it." Jonthan pushed his hair back out of his eyes. "Besides, we only have a few more days left here. I hardly doubt their reach goes all the way to Georgia."

"I know, but you'll be back in a couple weeks. What if they come after you?"

He looked mildly insulted. "I can take care of myself, Dahlia."

That didn't help my worries at all.

* * *

><p>"I'm loving this pumpkin roll!" I rolled my eyes at my mother. We were seated at my aunt's kitchen table. Jonathan was sitting to my right reading one of his books and my aunt was across the table. "Seriously, Shirls, this is better than Dahlia's."<p>

Now my eye roll turned to a full glare. There was no way that Shirley's pumpkin rolls were better than mine.

"What do you want, Mom? Quit stalling."

Beatrice Flynn put her fork down with a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "I know you went to your father's."

"What an awful idea." Shirley cut in and my glare went to her instead. "What if the murderer was there?"

I was going to speak but Jonathan got there before I did. "She's not quite stupid enough to go back to the scene of the crime."

My aunt leveled her stare on him. "How do you know that?"

Jonathan shrugged. "It's not hard to figure it out. She had to be at least moderately intelligent, she was able to figure out a way to surprise and perhaps overpower Mr. Cohen."

"_Mr. Cohen,_" Shirley mocked. "Was weak. He cheated on his wife and now look where he is- dead!"

My back stiffened and it felt like every hair on my body was on end. I glanced at my mother to see her holding her head. I knew my father was still a weak spot in her heart and so did her sister. I stood up, pushing my chair back until the back hit the floor. "Come on, we're heading out."

Jonathan looked up from his book again and nodded before standing as well. I didn't say anything to either my aunt or my mother before I tore out of the house, anger burning deep in my chest. How could mom just sit there and let her call Dad weak? I knew there was still bad blood there, but Dad was dead. It wasn't right to insult the dead.

"Dahlia." I jumped and looked at my boyfriend before noticing we were in my Charger already. When had we gotten in here? He raised a thin eyebrow at me, sitting in the driver's seat. Apparently I had decided to let him drive as well. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care. Just away from here, please."

Jonathan nodded before turning the key and shifting my beloved car into gear.

It took quite awhile to get where we were going, which wasn't really anywhere. The ride was silent as Jonathan drove us out of Gotham City and onto one on the back roads we passed on the way from Georgia. He kept driving until we ended up at a dead end in front of a snow covered field. I rested back in my seat and fingered the locket around my neck.

"You want to tell me what happened back there?" Jonathan was looking out the windshield as snowflakes fell lazily from the sky.

"My aunt's a bitch."

"Language." I rolled my eyes. "It usually takes more than that to make you lose yourself."

I huffed and crossed my arms. Childish, I know, but I didn't care. "My dad is dead, Jonathan. And Shirly fucking Flynn-Coen has no right to talk about him. Yes, he cheated on my mom, but that was _their_ problem, not hers. She hated him even before that. He was nothing but polite to her. True, he tried to stay away from her, but that's better than punching her, isn't it?"

Jonathan gave a little chuckle. "Your aunt is... trying at best. I think she's the first person to call me feminine."

I blanched. "Oh god, you heard that?"

"Of course." He nodded before taking my cold hand in his arm one. "But she's your aunt and another murder might ruin our trip."

That startled a giggle out of me. "I don't know, it might salvage what's left of it." I sighed and squeezed his hand. "I can't believe they haven't caught her yet."

Jonathan's finger was tracing intricate designs on my skin, distracting me. "Don't worry about it, they'll find her one way or another."

I looked from his hand and was surprised when Jonathan's lips caught mine. I sighed and closed my eyes, grabbing his coat and pulling him as close as the seat divider would allow. His hands wrapped around my waist, one of them snaking up my shirt to splay across my back. I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, smirking against his mouth then I felt him shrug it off.

I broke away from him for a second, looking into his bright eyes that were darkening by the second. Our breathing was heavy and I smiled at him lightly. "I love you, you know."

If possible, Jonathan's eyes darkened even more and he smirked at me. "I know." He captured my lips again and pulled me onto his lap, pulling my shirt up.

Jonathan Crane drove me crazy, but he was a pretty good distraction.

We ended up going back to my aunts shortly after. I was curled up into the seat, content with everything. Not even Shirley could bring me down now.

As Jonathan pulled my car into the driveway, I knew something was wrong. My mom was outside, pacing the sidewalk. As soon as she saw the car, she jogged across the yard to us. I frowned and straightened my clothes again as he put the car into park. I opened the door as she reached us.

"It's about time! I've been waiting for an hour!"

I scowled. "Well, excuse me, I didn't know we had something arrange-"

Jonathan seemed to realize something I didn't though, because he put a hand on my shoulder. "Let your mom talk."

I was going to give him a lecture, too, before I saw the look on my mom's face. "What's going on?"

She sighed. "The police called, D.G. They found the murderer, but she's dead. They want you at the station now."

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'M ALIVE! I'm sorry this took so long, things kept coming up. I hope you guys love it! Let me know, every response I get makes me that much more driven to write! Thank you for all the reviews/favorites, alerts, everything! I hope the wait hasn't driven anyone off.**


	17. 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun. **

**17**

**Edge of Seventeen**

Carmine Falcone once again found himself impressed by Jonathan Crane. The man reminded him of a panther, stalking back and forth like a cat toying with it's prey. His measured movements made harsh clacking sounds on the cold cement floor. He had a cold look on his face as he paced in front of the woman in the chair. The calculating expression made him look only that much older.

Kara Taylor was strapped to the chair, her body writhing as screams were torn from her throat. If he were any less of a man, Falcone would flinch. She was beautiful, even covered in dirt and smelling of urine. Her brunette hair shined in the dull lights of the drafty warehouse and her once angry blue eyes had rolled into the back of her head, only the whites showing now. He watched as the kid picked up the syringe that he injected the girl with and set it back down with a sigh.

"Come now, Ms. Taylor. This is far too easy for my taste, won't you fight it even a bit?" The woman kept screaming, the sounds raw. Crane gave another long-suffering sigh and selected a different syringe before nodding at the two men standing next to the chair. He watched as one of the men held her down while the other offered Taylor's arm to him. The mob boss wondered at his almost clinical precision as the kid slid the needle into the forearm and pushed the plunger down.

The effect was almost immediate. Kara Taylor's body stopped writhing and her screams died down to tired sobs, her eyes finally closing. "Ms. Taylor, you disappoint me. I figured you would at least put up **some** semblance of a struggle."

The woman opened her eyes and tried to focus. She swallowed and tried to say something but her voice wouldn't cooperate. Crane rolled his eyes and picked up the bottle of water, showing it to her. The woman nodded tiredly and opened her mouth, allowing him to pour water into her mouth. She swallowed and took a breath before taking another drink, again and again. The water was half gone before she was able to speak.

"What... why are you doing this to me?"Taylor's voice was still cracking do to overuse but she was able to speak.

"You aren't stupid, Ms. Taylor. You should be able to figure that out." Crane's voice was chilling and it caused the woman to jump.

"David Cohen."

This caused Falcone to chuckle mirthlessly. "Right on the money."

"You don't know what you're getting into!" Fire had returned to her eyes. "This is _far_ bigger than either of you!"

"You really expect me to believe that you had some sort of _mission_?" Crane snorted as the woman started protesting. "I hardly think you would be sitting in this chair if you were working for some higher power, Ms. Taylor."

Kara Taylor grew quiet and trained her eyes to the floor. "I failed."

"What are you talking about? David Cohen is dead, I found the body."

Kara started laughing lightly. "You're him, aren't you? D.G.'s boyfriend. I should have figured." She paused as she started choking. "My... mission... was to kill both of them. But when I found out you were coming I had to act. So, I failed and now I have to die."

"Which is why you stayed here. You knew someone was going to find you eventually." Crane nodded thoughtfully and started pacing again. "But why Dahlia and David?"

"I don't know. I was told to go after Anton Falcone, using any means necessary. That's it." The woman was tired, her eyes drooping and making her look many years older than what she was.

"Why so forthcoming with information, then?"

"I have to die."

"You want to die?"

"No!" Kara sat up straight, her eyes blazing again. "No! I don't want to die! But either way, it's going to happen and if you don't kill me, then they will and they won't be _nearly_ as kind. What they have makes your little toxin seem like child's play."

Jonathan gave her a little smirk. "Is that so?"

"Yes. And if you even think of letting me go, I'll kill Dahlia. I'll rip her apart and scatter her in the Narrows!"

Narrowing his icy eyes, the younger man stopped in front of her. He crouched down to her level and grabbed her dirty face, forcing her to make eye contact. "You will never so much as whisper her name again, do you understand me?" She provided no answer so Jonathan gripped her face to the point of pain. Seeing her flinch, he smiled. "Am I making myself clear, Ms. Taylor?"

He flung her head back which connected with the metal headrest of the chair with a sick crack and the woman cried out, instinctively trying to reach for her head. "You can't save her!"

"Hmm." The young man was already at the tray, picking up another full syringe. "I guess I'll be the judge of that, Kara Taylor. Now, do tell me, what is your worst fear?"

* * *

><p>As we reached GCPD, I was taken from Jonathan and my mother to the same conference room as before. Same bleak walls and cold metal chair and table. The chair didn't even <em>move<em>, but I guess that was for the safety if the police. Who knew what kind of maniacs they got in this place. It was getting late and I had to stifle a yawn, hoping I didn't seem bored. But honestly, this was not how I was expecting to spend my New Years Eve. So much for taking Jonathan to the city.

"Is this your father's girlfriend, Dahlia?" James Gordon held a Polaroid out to me from across the table, his face grim. He looked even older than when I last saw him, the slight wrinkles looking harsh in the dim fluorescent lighting. I took it hesitantly and turned my gaze to it. I wasn't ready for what I saw, however, and had to fight back a gag.

Yep. It was Kara Taylor alright. Well, that was left of her. She was on a slab, a stark white sheet pulled up to her chin. Her skin was a horrible pale color, marred by black bruises. Her normally pink lips were blue, the bottom deeply split. There were odd black strings hanging from holes around her mouth, some torn open. That wasn't even the worst of it. Her eyelids were pulled down over empty sockets and shut with even black stitches. Her hair was shaved, revealing a thin incision down the middle of her skull that was also stitched shut, although not nearly as precise as her eyes and mouth. "Oh my god. I will never be able to un-see this, will I?"

Gordon shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not, D.G. Is this her?"

I nodded my affirmative and pushed the picture face-down towards the officer, trying to keep my stomach from revolting against me. "Where did you find her?"

"She was delivered to the Gotham General just before dawn. She was thrown out of a black, unmarked van. She had already been dead for an hour or so."

"Do you have any suspects?"

"We believe it is mob-related. A few of us wanted to add **you** to the suspect list, but the coroner was very adamant that this took more than one person, probably men. However, I do need to ask you some questions, formally." His tone was apologetic.

"It's okay, I mean, I understand. If anyone had motive, it would be me, right?" I chuckled, the sound dry and borderline frantic. I stole a glance at the tape recorder, which had already been recording for some time. I was probably suspect numero uno. "Feel free, Officer Gordon."

"Where were you last night, around 1 AM?"

"Sleeping, sir. Jonathan and I have been staying at my aunt's, Shirley Coen, for the last couple of days." Not that I wanted to, but it really was safer than the hotel room with the broken door.

"Can anyone vouch for you?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Jonathan, for one. My mom, my aunt, my cousins... They were all there, sir, and my aunt usually doesn't go to bed until late, so she would be able to tell you if I had left. Where we are staying is on the second floor with no real exit plan."

"Do you have a reason to harm Ms. Taylor?"

I bit my lip and thought back to my conversation with Bruce Wayne. "If you ask a psychiatrist, they would probably tell you I'm probably the perfect suspect. But I have no reason to kill Kara Taylor, sir. Yes, she killed my father. She ruined my parent's marriage before that. However, my father wouldn't want me to go to prison and ruin my life over some idiotic revenge plot. He had so many dreams for me and he supported me in everything I wanted to do, he would have been extremely disappointed in me if I gave that all up." I took a deep breathe and sighed, wringing my hands in my lap. "He may not be here anymore, but I'm not going to insult his memory that way."

The older man nodded appreciatively."How long are you staying in the area, Ms. Cohen?"

"We're leaving the day after tomorrow to go back to Atlanta."

"That will be all, Ms. Cohen." Gordon reached over and pressed a button on the recorder and the wheels inside slowed to a stop. "I believe this will give those stiffs at the prosecutors office something to think about. I'm sorry for taking up your New Year's Eve."

I smiled and stood up from the uncomfortable chair, leaning back to my back would crack. "It's alright, Mr. Gordon. May I ask what time it is?"

The officer looked at his watch. "It's about eleven-thirty, D.G. So you can probably make it to the square if that is what you were planning."

"Thank you." I held my hand out to Gordon, making sure to keep it steady. Damn nerves. "Happy New Year, Mr. Gordon. And thank you again."

"You're welcome, D.G." James Gordon took my hand, giving me another kind smile. "Be safe."

Jonathan was waiting for me outside the station, relaxing on the steps as snow lazily fell from the sky. It was dark and cold, part of me wondered why he wasn't actually in the station waiting on me but the other part new Jonathan Crane was flat out weird. In a good way.

He seemed to be lost in thought, since he didn't notice me approach him. Seeing him like this, I was almost in awe of how beautiful he really was. His high cheek bones stood out under the dim city lights and his skin looked almost metallic. The impossibly bright blue eyes were staring straight through the bangs of his wavy dark hair but weren't really seeing anything. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I plopped down next to him, squeaking as the cold instantly radiated through my pants and coat.

If he were any other man, Jonathan would have jumped. Instead, he trained his eyes on me and his face brightened, a small smile gracing his perfect mouth. "Finished?" He instantly intertwined his gloved hand through mine.

"Yeah. It was her. But man, whoever got her did a number on her." I worried my lip between my teeth. "But I think I'm a suspect, Jonathan."

"Nonsense." My boyfriend stood, pulling me with him. "It was more than likely the mob. You know as well as I do that Falcone was out for blood. I'm sure them questioning you was just a formality."

I couldn't help the anxious feeling that was pulling me under. "I don't know..."

"Hey." Jonathan lifted my chin and looked into my eyes, blue meeting hazel. "None of that. Where's the girl that is going to unwillingly drag me into the city to watch some stupid ball drop?"

"It's not stupid." I giggled weakly, still not feeling it. "But you're right. No use worrying about it now, right? Did Mom go home?"

"I told her we'd be back after the drop, she wanted to go home and get some rest." He nodded, his eyes trained on something other than my eyes now. I exhaled and then Jonathan was on me, his mouth pressing against mine.

I was suddenly acutely aware of everything around us. The people walking in and out of the station, the cars moving past on the street. Gotham was a city that never slept, but New Years made it even worse. I could feel the awkward stares burning into my back. Sadly, I pulled away with a small smile. At Jonathan's inquiring look, I clarified, "Wouldn't want to get a public indecency charge on New Years."

He rolled his eyes and pulled me closer, kissing my temple. "So, how far away is this town square?"

I smiled brightly. "Only a couple blocks, let's go." I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the steps and into the throngs of people.

* * *

><p>To say that we were uncomfortable was a mild understatement. I was pressed against a steel barricade on my right and Jonathan was right against my back, making me feel <em>all<em> of him. There was a bubbly blonde girl to my left who kept trying to make conversation with Jonathan, despite all the death glares he had bestowed upon her. My feet were hurting and a drunk had sloshed a beer onto my purse. We still had ten more minutes to go.

"Do you want to head back?" Jonathan's voice in my ear made me jump which caused him to chuckle. "Sorry, D.G."

Despite the cold and the close quarters, he was in a good mood. His arms were wrapped around my stomach and his chin was resting on my scalp. I was surprised, I figured it would be him that was miserable and me that was excited. Go figure. "Nah, I'm fine. I just smell like alcohol." I had to raise my voice louder than usual and I'm still not sure that he heard me, his gaze on the countdown projected on the screen in front of Wayne Tower.

"Is this your first time in Gotham?" It was the bubbly blonde next to me. Her blue eyes were focused on me this time, instead of Jonathan.

I shook my head, dislodging my boyfriend who just pulled my closer in response. "I live here." I tell her. It was just easier to say that than explain all the fucked up stuff that had been going on.

If possible, the girl was happier. A luminous smile overtook her face and she turned her athletic body towards me. "I'm Harleen Quinzel, I'm a Junior at Gotham High."

Her smile was apparently infectious, as I was smiling too. "D.G. Cohen. The giant who is resting his head on me is Jonathan Crane, my boyfriend." I had to add that last bit, just in case blondie had any ideas that were hazardous to her health.

It didn't bother her apparently. "Let's be friends, okay!" She giggled and grabbed my hands.

Blink, blink. Okay, then. Harleen proceeded to tell me all about herself. She's a gymnast with an interest in psychology. She didn't have a lot of friends because she was from the Narrows and she got bullied for it. Plus people thought she was "spacey". Big surprise there.

But all in all, she wasn't a bad kid. We chatted idly as we watched the count down drop lower and lower. We even exchanged numbers, to Jonathan's apparent surprise. It couldn't hurt to have another friend, even if she was from the wrong side of town.

"Five!"

The crowd's chant broke Harleen and I's conversation, both of us turning to see the numbers were in single digits. She grinned at me and raised her fist in the air like everyone around us, joining into the screaming.

"Four!"

"Three!"

I was pulled from my new friend's side and into Jonathan's arms, where he turned me around so I was facing him. He smiled at me, his face getting closer to mine.

"Two!"

He was only a centimeter away from me now and I couldn't help myself again. I was enthralled in the joy that was spreading throughout the crowd, the promise of a new year.

"One!"

I leaned up to him, standing on my toes. "I love you, Jonathan Crane."

The horns blazed around us and Jonathan leaned in, sealing his lips to mine as confetti rained down on us. I closed my eyes, blocking out the happy shouting and cheers from the crowd. All I could concentrate on was Jonathan's lips moving against mine, sealing in the promise of a perfect new year with the first boy I ever loved.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I hope you guys liked it! This was supposed to be out awhile ago, but I lost internet twice, almost broke my computer, had too many doctor's appointments to count, etc. This was the penultimate chapter of Dal Niente, the next is the finale!**

**I will be uploading a series of one-shots to connect Dal Niente with the next part of the series. The one shots are going to be titled Interlude, and the next part of the series is titled Cadence. Cadence will be out in about a month or so after the final chapter of Dal Niente. Confused you yet?**

**Anyways, I have started a little tumblr to help you guys keep in contact with me during the writing of Interlude and Cadence. The link will be on my profile. Follow it, ask, contribute, whatever you want. **

**Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through his story. It's almost done and then we have the rest of the series! I hope everyone has enjoyed it as much as I have!**


	18. 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.**

**18**

**The Wind Blows**

Today was the day. As much as I hated it and dreaded it for the past two weeks, today was the day Jonathan went back to Gotham. And I was convinced it was going to be one of the worst days ever.

I opened my eyes and glared out my window. It was still dark and I looked at the clock. It was only four. I had tossed and turned all night and I knew I was going to be miserable all day now.

I climbed out of my bed and stretched, yawning. Today was going to be a long day so I might as well get it over with while I could.

I wandered over to where I kept my clothes and grabbed the usual- shirt, jeans bra, panties. Nothing special. I was being bitter and I knew it, but I really didn't feel that this was something to celebrate. My mom had taken us out to dinner last night to celebrate it, wasn't that enough?

I left my door open behind me as I walked out into the hallway and into the bathroom. I switched on the shower and let the water heat up as I pulled my clothes off numbly.

I couldn't help but think how ridiculous I was being as I stepped into the cascade of hot water. I mean, I was acting like I did when I found Dad's... when I found Dad. I would see my boyfriend again, of that there was no doubt. Jonathan had already told me more than once that he wasn't giving up on us, so why was I?

I knew why. Being hundreds of miles away and in _college_, people would be more accepting of Jonathan. It wasn't like here in Atlanta where you were crucified for being different. Girls wouldn't know his background, wouldn't know to call him _scarecrow_ and they would definitely be attracted to him.

And what was I to stand in the way of that? There was a very good chance that Jonathan would find someone better, some smarter or prettier. I would be 12 hours away, waiting for a letter or a phone call, the insignificant significant other. I closed my eyes and knew that the shower would wash away the tears that fell. _This sucked._

I must have been lost in thought because I didn't notice the door open or the curtain pull back. I didn't notice anything until arms wound around my wet stomach, causing me to jump and screech.

I spun around and slapped Jonathan on his bare chest, glaring into his sparkling blue eyes. "What do you think you are doing?" My voice was a harsh whisper, betraying my earlier emotions. "My mother is right next door!"

The infuriating man scoffed and pulled me closer to him. "Your mother was called into work an hour ago. I'm surprised you didn't hear the phone since you've been up all night."

"How do you know that?" My eyes narrowed, the water at least hiding the tear tracks.

"Turn around." I gave him one last glare before I did as he asked and he reached around me, grabbing my wash cloth and soap. I pushed my wet hair out of my eyes and almost moaned when I felt Jonathan kneading my sore muscles with the wash cloth. "You kept me up too."

I cringed. "Sorry."

" What's wrong? You're miles away right now."

"No, I'm not. Not yet." The reply had slipped out before I had a chance to stop it and I felt the hand on my shoulder still. Fuck.

Jonathan had tensed behind me and I didn't have to turn around to guess that his eyes had a fire to them now. "I thought we discussed this, Dahlia."

"Discussing it doesn't do anything!" I pulled away and turned to face him, painfully aware now how naked we both were. "We can talk till we are blue in the face but nothing is going to change the fact that, as much as I love you, there is a good chance that you will find someone else."

Had it been for any other reason, the look on Jonathan's face would have been priceless. His face, normally so composed, showed shock. His perfect mouth was open and his eyes wide. He swallowed and took a deep breath. He tossed the washcloth at my feet. "There is **no chance** of me finding someone else."

"Sure." Rolling my eyes here. "And why is that?"

"Because I love you!" I jumped at his raised tone and my heart stuttered to a stop. Jonathan ran a hand through his wet hair and gave an audible sigh. "I thought that was painfully obvious."

"Well..." I floundered for something to say. "It wasn't, okay? And I love you, you know that. But I don't feel the need to scream it at you."

That earned a chuckle from my boyfriend. "You will never let me win, will you?"

I opened my mouth to speak but Jonathan had me pressed against the wall of the shower in a heartbeat, his mouth aggressive against mine. The water had gone cold, but neither of us noticed for a long time.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you're leaving!" Packing my Charger, my mother was a blubbering mess. It was understandable, in the short time that Jonathan Crane had been in our lives, we had both gotten attached to him. Though, in very different ways.<p>

My mom and dad had always wanted a boy after me but they had never gotten around to it with both my parents working day in and out. Then Mom's idea of a perfect little family was dashed when she came home from work early and found my dad pounding Kara Taylor into the couch. Then came the divorce and the move.

Then came Jonathan.

I knew he became the son that my mom had never had but always wanted.

I smiled sadly. He had unknowingly worked his way into our tiny apartment and in our family. Now something would always be missing.

I shook my head and threw the last bag into the trunk, not quite missing the helpless look Jonathan sent me over my mom's head. She had been crying on him for ten minutes straight now. If I was feeling vindictive, I would have let it continue. But I took pity on him, I know what it's like dealing with my overemotional mother.

"Mom, have you called Uncle Roth to make sure he can pick Jonathan up from the airport?" My mother moved away from Jonathan and shook her head, wiping her face.

"No, you're right, I should do that. Don't leave before I come back out!" We watched as she hurried into the apartment building, still wiping her face.

I turned to Jonathan and found him looking at the building with a melancholic look on his face. I took the few short steps over to him and laced my fingers through his. He looked down and gave me a little smirk, but it was one that didn't make it to his eyes. "I will miss this place."

"Coming from the guy who didn't even want to come in the front door."

"Yes well, look where that got me." He gave me a glance to show that it was purely in jest. "It seems like it was so long ago."

"Three months can be a long time." So can five. But I didn't say that. After our little argument this morning, I was going to send him off with a smile. Jonathan finally turned away from the building and faced me. His face showed that he had something to say, but he was conflicted. "Just say it."

"I'm going to call you. Every day. And I know Harleen has promised to keep an eye on me, too." I laughed at that. I missed Harleen a lot, despite only knowing her for a few days. She took extra courses in the university so I know she would be watching Jonathan like a hawk. Jonathan leaned down, his forehead against mine. "I'm not giving up on us so you'd better not. I'll be back down for your graduation, if not before."

"I love you." I said because, honestly, it was the only thing I was thinking. I played with the locket around my neck. "And I will miss you."

He was saved from replying by the door swinging open and the Queen of Bad Timing running out. "What are you still doing here? Jonny is going to miss his flight!"

Jonathan and I shared a look. _She told us to wait._ Once she got back to us, she pulled my boyfriend into a hug that looked mildly bone crushing. "I love you, Jonny!" I could almost see the annoyance on his face at her nickname for him. "We'll pack everything else up and ship it to you tomorrow. Be safe, do you hear?"

"Yes, Beatrice." He pulled away and nodded, letting her kiss his cheek. "Thank you for everything."

"Honey, you're family now." She patted his cheek fondly before leaning over and kissing me on the forehead. "I'll see you later, honey. Now, go!" She shoo-ed us away and watched as we climbed into my Charger and pulled out of the parking lot.

The drive to the airport was silent and my knuckles were white as they clutched the steering wheel. My heart hammered in my chest and I kept having to blink back tears. Jonathan just stared out of the passenger window, his face expressionless. Not even the radio eased the tension that filled the car.

Too soon, we reached the airport and I knew we had to say goodbye. I wasn't ready and, by the way he hesitated leaving the Charger, I knew Jonathan wasn't either. Neither of us looked at each other as we pulled his few bags out of the trunk.

With everything out, there was only one thing left to do and I found myself leaning against the hot metal of the Charger, my face downcast. I didn't even bother to try to stop the tears that were streaming readily down my face, there was no point now.

"Dahlia." I looked up and there was a pained look on his face. "Please don't cry."

I giggled weakly and wiped my face. "I'm sorry. I just can't..." I trailed off.

He pulled me into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me. Jonathan buried his face into my hair and kissed my temple. "I love you, Dahlia."

I brought my arms up around his shoulders and pressed my head into his chest. I was starting to sob now and it was ridiculous. "I love you, too." I sniffled pathetically. "I guess this is goodbye, huh?"

My boyfriend's embrace only tightened. "No. I'm not saying goodbye to you, D.G. Not now. Not ever."

I pulled away and initiated the kiss, bringing his face down to mine desperately. I knew it wasn't going to solve anything, but I had to feel that he was still here and still wanted me, despite everything. He answered back with the same desperation as me, his hands winding through my hair almost painfully.

_'Flight 162 to Gotham will board in 30 minutes. 162 in 30 minutes.'_

We pulled apart at the announcers voice and I gave him one last smile, adjusting his glasses for him. "I know Mom said it, but be safe. And call us when you get settled in."

"I will." He swallowed and looked at the floor before looking at me again. "Don't forget what I said, D.G. I'll see you in a few months."

With one last kiss, I watched the boy I loved walk into the airport without looking back. My hand went to my necklace again as I leaned back against my Charger and completely broke down.

* * *

><p>I don't know why I'm doing this. I must have a fucking death wish or something. I think this over and over again and I slowly drive down the lane to Jonthan's grandmother's. It hadn't changed much in the last few months, only the trees had less leaves.<p>

I swallowed as I pulled into the gravel next to the station wagon in front of the huge farm house. I could see the dilapidated church in the background and the memory of Jonathan tied to the cross assaulted my mind. Fuck. I'm actually doing this.

The house looked a little worse for wear than last time, but Jonathan was probably the one who did all the work so it didn't surprise me in the least. I steeled myself and opened the door of the Charger, leaving it running just in case.

I walked past the rusted mailbox, noticing the name on it for the first time. _Sweeney_. I had forgotten that Karen had given Jonathan his father's last name.

I made it to the front door and there was this... stench that wasn't there last time. Like something had been left rotting. I gagged and put my shirt over my mouth and knocked. Maybe as a favor I could help the bitch clean up a bit.

When I knocked the door swung open and the smell multiplied by at least a thousand. "Oh my god." I stepped inside, trying not to vomit. "Mrs. Sweeney! Are you here? It's Jonathan's girlfriend!"

There was no answer. I frowned. Her station wagon was here, so she had to be here. What if she needed help? I could at least call 911. I took a few steps inside, keeping my shirt firmly over my mouth. "Mrs. Sweeney! Do you need help?"

There was no answer but the further I got into the house, the worse the smell became. Fuck it, I'm calling 911. I had seen the phone in the kitchen on the way to get Jonathan's things so I knew she had one.

I made as little sound as possible. Something wasn't right... From the little time I talked to her I knew she wouldn't let her house go like this. Along with the stench, an inch of dust covered just about everything in sight, including the floor.

I finally made it to the kitchen, which was apparently where the smell was coming from. She probably left meat out and forgot. At least, that was what I was hoping. I pushed open the door.

And almost vomited.

Jonathan's grandmother was bent over backwards on the table, a very long knife pinning her there. What was left of her anyways. She was little more than rotted meat now and there were flies everywhere. Her eye sockets were empty and her jaw was wide open, frozen in a scream.

I averted my eyes from here and swallowed down the bile, grabbing the white phone off the counter and I ran out of the room, out of the house, and flung myself onto the grass outside. I vomited over and over again, my stomach rolling dangerously.

When I was able, I flung myself to the side and grabbed the phone, thanking whatever deity was listening when the emergency operator answered on the first ring. I sobbed my story into the line and was told to stay where I was and help would be on the way.

As I waited for the police and ambulance, I realized one thing. Jonathan's grandmother had paid for her sins against her grandson, but who had been the reaper?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And- end! Finally, Dal Niente is complete. And it has been one hell of a ride for me. I thank EVERYONE who stuck with me through this. I hope the last chapter wasn't a disappointment. I knew how I wanted it to end, but it just would not come out.**

**Special thanks go to my good friend Andy (mistressofdarkness666) for helping me get over my writers block and being my unofficial beta.**

**The first one shot for Cadence will be up within a few days. I have started a Avenger's fiction (Playing With Fire) that I will also be working on. If you like Loki, check it out.**

**Again, thank you for sticking with it and I hope you will all enjoy the rest of the series, also.**

**-Ellie**


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